


And Come to Me (closer than anything in the world)

by tukimecca



Category: World Trigger
Genre: Arashiyama is Hurting, Developing Relationship, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Ninomiya is the victim in all of this, Protective Tachikawa Kei, Self Confidence Issues, Tachikawa Kei is not Stupid, World Trigger Secret Santa 2016, guess who's jealous, or he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8982046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tukimecca/pseuds/tukimecca
Summary: Written for World Trigger Secret Santa 2016-“Because you care for other people, because you are not selfish, Arashiyama. So, don’t you ever, don’t you ever dare to think you’re anything but a brave and selfless person you are. Even if you can’t trust yourself, can you trust me?”Arashiyama nods, his voice cracking when he answers. “I can.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [augusta_brie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/augusta_brie/gifts).



> Dear giftee, I’d let you know that I literally had to excuse myself from my cubicle (yes, I am that bad employee who opened tumblr during office hours, whoops) just to properly express my joy and utter delight at knowing that someone else actually ship Tachikawa/Arashiyama, and I’m required to write about them for this event. How could we never cross path before????
> 
> I’m a trash for Tachikawa/Arashiyama, I know it’s unlikely pairing, I’m sure you do, too, but; the potential! I could have gush about it here, except this fic is already 30k words long, and I swear, I don’t know how did it end up this long, but I’m glad it did, because you mentioned you like, long, plotty fic. Not as ‘plotty’ but I tried, incorporated the ‘Border Politics’ too in there (though I think I didn’t do really well).
> 
> Lots of narrative. Lots of questioning. I tried to portray Arashiyama’s state of mind; when you’re anxious and constantly worried, your thought is often a jumbled mess, and you wonder about every single thing. It took better turn half-way, got a little bit of fluff here and there, too (Spoiler!), because poor bb Junjun deserves it. No ‘BALL OF POSITIVITY! HERO!’ Arashiyama either, because I wanted to focus on the darker side of him that he only let Tachikawa sees.
> 
> If you want ‘darker’ and ‘more mature’ tachiara, then please wait a little more, I have a series coming that I think fit your prompt more. I could have gone with it in this ss, but the guidelines said no nsfw, so I had to sacrifice the ‘darker’ plot.
> 
> Anyways, Happy holidays and have a nice day! It's an honor to be able to write for you.
> 
> (*) set 4 years prior before the 1st volume. A month or so after 1st HQ Border recruitment.

:::

_"Will you overcome the time when we didn’t know each other_   
_And come to me closer than anything in the world?"_

_Feel Good - SHINee_

:::

Arashiyama knows, as immediate as the first glance, that Tachikawa Kei is as dependable as undependable he looks like.

In those impassive face lies passion, in those enigmatic eyes dwells power. In those clumsy hands is control over storm that keeps on brewing and too much for his still young body to contain. Tachikawa Kei would grow up, Arashiyama thinks, as he, once again, lets himself be bewitched by the sheer display of power that Tachikawa wields with practiced ease, into a respectable man despite his shortcomings. A fortress indomitable. A rock immovable.

Arashiyama doesn’t need Jin’s precognition side-effect to know. He can tell, as easily as people would mistook Tachikawa’s ineptitude as a sign of weakness, that in the future, there would be people, hundreds, or millions even, who follow after the trail Tachikawa had left.

And Arashiyama, maybe, would become one of those people who look up to Tachikawa. To his disarming strength. A strength that is dizzying as much as it is relieving, poisonous as it is harmless. Intoxicating. Sweetly addicting that all you want to do is entrust yourself – your safety – to him. Because with that much power surging in his veins, it is impossible not to believe that Tachikawa would let any harm befall you.

He believes that his trust to Tachikawa isn’t as blind, because regardless of his childlike capriciousness, he is still the disciple of Shinoda Masafumi, the man whose cause Arashiyama is fighting for, the man Arashiyama swears his allegiance to.

Even if it’s not the path Shinoda had paved Tachikawa would walk on in the future, he’d still bear the crest of his mentor. The insignia of Shinoda Masafumi is the art of sword he had passed down to Tachikawa; swords to destroy as much as to protect. Swords to slaughter as much as to preserve.

Tachikawa would walk then, in that path of carnage, leaving ruins as he creates salvations for his peers. Arashiyama would follow him, if it means he could keep his people safe. If it means he can prevent disaster to befall his beloved family. He’d dirty his hand even, just like how Tachikawa had done. He’d bear the burden even, just like Jin had done. He would fight with and for his comrades, to protect his people, in the name of organization he had sworn himself to. Just like Tachikawa had with his ingenuous enthusiasm. Just like Tachikawa would with his credulous quest for power.

Arashiyama trusts Tachikawa Kei, even if he is as helpless as infant once he is removed from his armor. However once Tachikawa wears them, once his fingers curl around the cold and smooth surface of his trigger, he is the walking epitome of superiority. A living supremacy. Merciless in his judgement. Ruthless in his action.

But that too, is armoire his mentor had bestowed him with. In Shinoda-san’s iron-fisted strength is kindness. In Tachikawa’s inexorable slash is liberation, emancipation for Mikado’s population from the unforgiving terror of Neighbor.

In that way, Tachikawa Kei is beautiful, Arashiyama thinks. Even when he is leaking trion after trion from his severed limbs, even when his face is cracking from enemy’s blow. Even then, Arashiyama thinks Tachikawa is beautiful. With his defect, with his unaffected hunger for dominance, with his failing grades, and unrivalled swordsmanship.

He is beautiful, Arashiyama remembers himself thinking when he saw Tachikawa in action for the first time. And in this beautiful man, he’d entrust all of him.

:::

Tachikawa associates Arashiyama Jun with sun. For the positivism that shines bright in his personality, for his cheerful voice that reminds Tachikawa of birds’ twitter in the morning, for the warmth honesty that radiates hotly from his stark-bright emerald eyes; for everything that Arashiyama Jun is, he reminds Tachikawa of sun.

Arashiyama showers everyone with heart-searing kindness, rain of spring’s first sunray in the morning. Warm and gentle, unobtrusive as it gently parts the cloud, making its way to grace the chilly earth. Encompassing heat that provides you comfort and relieve from cold days. A promise of longer and brighter days. Enlivening, a source of life. A beacon of hope. Just like Arashiyama Jun and his brilliant smile that is as dazzling as his forest-green eyes.

Tachikawa never bother with things like sexuality, but putting that aside, he assumes there is nothing wrong with admitting what is pretty as pretty. He thinks Arashiyama is pretty, with his artless positivity and his unsophisticated courage. With his eyes that would spoke of hope that expands as far as the forest in his eyes would. With his tireless smile that compels people to believe that a better future is waiting ahead of them even if the present is as bleak as bottomless abyss.

He had said it a couple of time in front of his peers; Shinoda-san, Jin, Kazama-san, even Kidou-san. “Arashiyama is pretty,” he had commented, and they would look at him funnily, amused even, before flitting their gazes at the said raven themselves and agreed, “he is.”

Just like the sun, Arashiyama is bright, blinding, that Tachikawa cannot look at him for too long in fear of losing his sight. A smile that pierces even the darkest of night. Voice that penetrates the most profound of silence. But for he is pretty, and for human naturally adores something pleasant to the eyes, he’d find himself often times staring for too long, entranced by that child-like laugh and spring-warm smile.

He would not be blinded, though, because he has confidence that he knows his limit. Once he feels his skin start to tingle, he’d look away, not without reveling in the acidic-pleasure of that heat; a signal that Arashiyama’s light is real and true.

Arashiyama Jun is, for Tachikawa Kei, a sun. Someone other people would look up to, someone who gives other people source of energy. Someone who encourages, leads, and nurtures. Someone whom people would seek for like plants seeking for sunlight. Someone who fits to shoulder the name of ‘The Face of Border’.

It is heavier title to carry than it sounds like, you have to be the epitome of what people would want Border agent to be; what people imagined a hero to be. Selfless and courageous. Wise and benevolent. Strong and charismatic. Not anyone can possess those qualities at the same time, because sometimes, they contradict each other. But Arashiyama houses them in his young body, in his heartfelt smile, and genuine words.

Often times Tachikawa would find himself wondering; isn’t it hard? Isn’t it tiring? To walk on conveying hope when the world is practically crumbling all around you? To fight protecting something even when you know there are things that cannot be protected? To smile when everyone around you is crying their heart out?

What a stupid question, Tachikawa answers himself. Of course it’s hard, he wouldn’t be able to do it. But Arashiyama Jun is sun, he would burn for millions of year to come, continue emitting his light so all beings could live even if by doing so he’s practically exhausting himself. Selfless. Brave. Endlessly kind and benevolent. Arashiyama Jun is strong, and for that reason nobody other than him can be The Face of Border.

Though looking from another way, it could mean that Arashiyama is nothing more than a tool, a ploy. A measure, Border’s currency to buy people’s trust. Everyone who sees Arashiyama would want to be like him; a hero, someone who serves himself for other and puts his own interest behind.

Tachikawa knows, in fact, there’re people who joined Border because they’re influenced by Arashiyama’s speech and appearance on public. Even if it’s fame they’re after, as long as they can be of use to Border, then Tachikawa sees no problem with it.

Still, those people wouldn’t be able to be like Arashiyama, for Arashiyama Jun is the sun, and there can only be one sun in the universe. For the universe called ‘Mikado’ right now, that sun might be Arashiyama. And maybe, _maybe_ , for Tachikawa, Arashiyama can be the sun, too.

:::

To put it simply, the timing isn’t right.

To put it simply, it’s nobody’s fault.

To put it simply, trying to blame anyone won’t change any single thing, and Arashiyama hates how he even finds the slightest of contempt in himself.  How unbecoming of “The Face of Border”.

It’s not Jin’s fault either that the most recent Trion Soldiers Attack costed them casualties.

Rather, Jin had ‘seen’ it coming, and he had told the commanders about it. Arashiyama remembers their mission briefing, the chart that has been drawn, the marks on the maps, the small red numbers of ‘casualties’ on the corner that Arashiyama had unconsciously refused to acknowledge. A number that Arashiyama had sworn to himself would minimize if not suppress down to zero.

Jin - fifteen years old yet looked a lot older - had smiled in the corner of the room; wane yet determined still, blue eyes flickering as he listened intently to Shinoda’s explanation. _This is one of those inescapable fates_ , even he didn’t express it verbally, everyone would have understood once they took in Jin’s expression.

“A death of ten is better than death of thousands,” Kidou had said, judge swinging down his gravel; fair yet merciless.

The agents had departed, engraving those words in their heart in attempt to ease their conscience. Pretending, fooling themselves that they’re not willingly sacrificing the life of people they had sworn to protect; fooling themselves that they’re not practically letting people to die.

Arashiyama knows too that this is how it should be, because this is life, the harsh reality of the world. It’s unforgiving as much as it’s fair, just as how it’s always been. For something they wanted, there’s always a price to pay. And for the sake of 280.000 lives of Mikado, 20 is a small number.

So, it’s definitely not Jin’s fault, but as Arashiyama gathers the limp, lifeless body of a boy who cannot be any older than seven in his artificial arms, he helplessly thinks of _if only;_

_If only Jin didn’t make this choice,_

_If only Jin saw another way,_

_If only this is not the ‘best’ future,_

_If only,_

_If only,_

_If only I was stronger,_

_If_ ,

“Arashiyama?”

Abruptly, the green-eyed boy turns around. There, standing on top the rubble is Border’s best attacker who is only a year older than him. “Tachikawa-san?”

Sixteen years old Tachikawa looks down on him, frowning, he sheath his _kogetsus_ before jumping down to Arashiyama’s side. He glances briefly at the dead boy in his junior’s arms before pouring his attention to Arashiyama. Tachikawa’s brows are still furrowed together, but Arashiyama is relieved when he realizes there is no contempt in there, no disappointment at Arashiyama’s failure either.

There is concern, open and genuine. Arashiyama feels like crying at the simple display of kindness, a kindness he doesn’t feel deserving of right now. The boy’s death is not Jin’s fault, nobody’s fault, but Arashiyama’s. If only he was faster, if only he was wiser, if only he was stronger, stronger like Tachikawa who is kneeling down beside him, still looking at him worriedly and putting one hand at Arashiyama’s trembling shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Tachikawa inquires, voice soft, gentle. For other people, it’s unlike him. Arashiyama knows better, Arashiyama believes in the kindness that lies in Tachikawa Kei; at the tenderness hiding behind his careless attitude.

Tachikawa Kei is kind, and for the same reason Arashiyama cannot help but wonder;

If he says ‘no’, would Tachikawa blame him for being not strong enough?

If he says ‘yes’, would Tachikawa blame him for lying?

If he says ‘no’, would Tachikawa blame him for letting this child die?

If he says ‘yes’, would Tachikawa blame him for being alright when he just committed a grief mistake?

If he says what, would Tachikawa tell him ‘it’s going to be alright’?

If he says what, would Tachikawa tell him ‘it’s not your fault’?

If he says what,

If he,

“Arashiyama!” Tachikawa grabs his shoulder with both hands roughly, now even his concern is dripping to his voice; mingled in is fear, mingled in is uneasiness. As if he’s scared that Arashiyama will leave; as if he’s scared that Arashiyama will disappear if he is not holding him this tight, grounding him, and trapping him under his heat.

Such is the kindness of Tachikawa Kei, whose molten-lead colored eyes deny none of his apprehension. So honest, trustful, willing to bare his weakness to someone as unfit as Arashiyama. _What would he gain?_ , Arashiyama questions again, at the same time thinking that if they’re not in their trion body, would he be able to feel the warmth of Tachikawa’s fingers seeping through the fabric of his jacket?

Baring his vulnerability to someone as weak as Arashiyama who could do nothing to protect anything, even a life he had boasted he would in front of the whole nation, what would Tachikawa gain?

Arashiyama can’t console him, Arashiyama can’t protect him. Arashiyama can’t help him. Arashiyama has failed once again. He has failed his city, his people, his organization; the prone body in his arms is unshakeable proof.

If only he was faster, if only he was stronger, if only he-

“ARASHIYAMA!”

Arashiyama gasps then, like being struck by thunder, eyes blown wide in surprise. Tachikawa is still gripping his shoulders, tighter than before; stronger. Suddenly, Arashiyama wishes they’re not in these artificial bodies so he could feel, so he could live, so he could make certain of the warmth of Tachikawa’s skin that tells him that he is alive. Breathing, not like the boy whose life he had failed to protect.

“I’m asking you if you are-“

“…rry.”

Tachikawa tilts his head, frowning even deeper, “what?”

“I’m sorry…I should have,” he falters, looking down at the person his apology should be directed to. “…I could have protected you, if only I was stronger, if I was faster- I could-“

Arashiyama’s words are cut, severed by the sudden sob that wretches itself from his throat. The sound is horrible, ugly, as it tumbles out from Arashiyama’s lips, crashing to the floor along with rest of him. Words failed him, just like he had failed his people; just like how he had failed this boy and let him die.

Tormented with guilt, Arashiyama finds himself unable to speak any longer. His previously frozen shoulder is now trembling with every escaping sob. In his trion body that cannot produce tears, Arashiyama can’t even cry properly. Still, it doesn’t stop him from weeping. The only thing he can do is wail, an attempt to free himself from misery. He continues to sob, holding the dead body close to his own that cannot feel pain, a body that is as unfeeling as the dead.

He could have saved this boy, he should be able to. Isn’t it his duty? His calling? Isn’t it what he told the whole world he’d do? Protecting his people from Neighbor’s invasion? Is it just another lie he’s forced to spew as The Face of Border? Or his incapability to do what he appeals himself to do is just another of his endless failure?

How could he face his peers with this failure? How could he face his people like this? How could he return to his family and look at them in the eyes knowing that he had let someone die? How could he live on happily when he couldn’t even bring this boy back to his family?

How selfish. How unfair it is of him to parade around after today with prettily decorated and arranged words, promising a better result next time, manipulating people to believe them once again. How cruel it is of him to beg for people’s trust when he doesn’t even believe in what his hands are capable of. How spiteful-

“You’re not,” Tachikawa’s voice comes to him, a tender whisper of baritone against the frigid skin of Arashiyama’s ears.

He doesn’t realize he has been voicing his thoughts out loud, doesn’t realize either when Tachikawa has pulled him in, pressing his head to his shoulder with one hand and encircle his waist with another. The lifeless boy between them is cold, but even if his artificial body isn’t supposed to radiate heat, Arashiyama finds it slowly worming back into him.

“You are not spiteful, nor selfish. You didn’t fail anyone,” Tachikawa speaks again, this time sounding closer than before.

Arashiyama sniffs, “But- this boy- I could have- because of me, he is-“

“There’s nothing can be done about it, he’s dead.” Tachikawa says. Frank and blunt. But not cruel nor it is unkind. A flat out truth, nothing more and nothing less. “Jin had said there’d be casualties. This boy is one of them.”

“But-“ Arashiyama wants to say ‘he doesn’t have to die’, wants to say ‘he could have been saved’, or at least ‘he doesn’t have to be the one who dies’. But all of his words wither in his throat when Tachikawa continues.

“Even if it’s not him, another people would still die. The result is still the same. Regardless, it is not your fault. If this was Jin in your place, would you blame him?”

“I won’t!” Arashiyama answers without thinking, and right beside his ears, Tachikawa chuckles.

“See, that’s why this one is not your fault either.” He ruffles the black locks of feathery hair, gently, affectionately, reassuringly. A manner of hand that Arashiyama supposes coming from his strength, or maybe from the kindness he carries in his power. Either way, Arashiyama envies it, slightly, and hopes one day he can possesses even a miniscule of it to inspire and protect his peers. “It’s going to be fine, Arashiyama. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Really?” Arashiyama hisses bitterly. “It’s not, nothing is going to be okay, Tachikawa-san. It’s not that simple, maybe it is simple for you because you don’t have to face the media and all. But me? I will be ushered to press-conference or interview right after this. I will be forced to spew another lies that everything will be okay when nothing is, when another people died, when I had let other people die- I just- I have to smile, and convince them everything will be alright, that nobody will die anymore, when God knows how many will- I’m not- I can’t- they will-“

 _Blame me_ , Arashiyama cannot continue, because, God, how selfish. By the end of the day, all he could think of is himself. When he should be thinking about the people who had lost their family because of him, he’s thinking of how to save his face instead. He should be worrying about the people he had let down, but he’s thinking about how the media would perceive him.

Disgusting. He is such a wreck of egotistical human being who doesn’t befit the duty he’s been given. He cannot even do his job right, cannot even save a boy this small, how dare he call himself the representative of Border when the organization is supposed to keep every single life of Mikado Population away from the harm’s way?

Why is he like this? Why is he this selfish? Why is he this weak? This incapable? This conceited and vain? Why did Border, choose someone so small and awful like him to be their delegate in public? Why didn’t they choose someone strong and noble like Kazama, or Jin or Tachikawa instead? They’re thousand times stronger than him, they’re million times better than him.

“Just what the hell are you talking about?” Tachikawa bristles, sounding annoyed yet confused at the same time. “Do you really wonder why they made you the representative instead of me or Jin or Kazama-san? Are you being serious right now?”

Arashiyama pushes him away but holds him at arm-length, hands on either side of Arashiyama’s upper arms. The younger boy sniffs, avoiding the fiery gaze Tachikawa sends his way. “But it’s true. Kazama-san would have been better, or Jin, even you Tachikawa-san, you are the best agent we have right now. But me? I just happened to have larger amount of trion than average,” he laughs humorlessly, “and this face…”

Tachikawa wears an expression like he just ate something sour, “do you really believe that?”

The truth is, he doesn’t want to. Arashiyama doesn’t want to admit he is weak and powerless, doesn’t want to submit to his own fear, because he knows, he is only truly defeated when he succumbs to the darkness of his thought; when he gives up on himself. “I…”

“Listen, okay, Arashiyama, you listen to me. Look at me,” Tachikawa’s voice is stern and commanding but when it’s not enough to make Arashiyama shift his gaze, he grabs his chin – rough yet still gentle – and forces their eyes to meet.

Arashiyama swallows, looking at himself reflected on those lenses of dark coal. The small and weak him. So ugly. So loathsome. He doesn’t want to see himself right now, he’ll just be reminded of his own failure and he has enough of it for now. But even if he wants to turn away, he cannot, because Tachikawa’s grip on his chin is as firm as the one he has on his shoulder.

“You are the representative of Border because nobody else can do it like you do. You are kind, you’re far from selfish, heck, I don’t think I remember seeing you putting yourself before anyone else. You are not conceited, you are not vain. You always, always, think of other people first that you sometimes forget about yourself. I know you, I’ve watched you, and I know you’re none of what you said you are. And if there’s anyone who said you are, if there’s anyone who said you’re not worthy to be the face of Border, screw them. Just believe me. They don’t know you like I do.”

He wants to retaliate, wants to say _‘you are wrong!’_ , because how could Tachikawa _knows him_ when he doesn’t remember even letting Tachikawa come close to who he really is? “You don’t know me Tachikawa-san…all you’ve said, all you’ve seen of me, it’s just- it’s not the real me…”

“It’s a façade you have to put up for everyone around you isn’t it?”

Arashiyama nods weakly. It’s not that all smiles he has put on his face all these years are always insincere, there were a couple of times when they’re less than genuine. When he felt tired, when his duties had taken toll over him. When his worry over his family had crippled his belief and haunted his sleep. Yet, he had to smile, for his team, for his peers, for his people.

Arashiyama had been told years ago by his parent that smile is infectious, and as long as there’s one people smiling, the rest would follow to. Over the years, Arashiyama has live by that principle, and has witnesses himself how that belief proven itself to be true. There were times when his smile had managed to bring back the spirit on others, like when Fuku and Saho cried after the first large scale invasion, or when he first helped people as a Border agent.

Seeing how their face lit up again, reassured by his own smile and presence, wells up satisfaction in Arashiyama’s heart. He feels useful, like he finally serves a purpose in life. He loves helping people, loves seeing people smile, that’s why he joined Border in the first place, both as combat agent and PR.

He knew it’s not going to be easy as he imagined it’d be, it’s not going to be a sunny and flowery path, but he didn’t expect it’d be this tasking either. He doesn’t have problem with the fighting part, but in the beginning, even his conscience was conflicted knowing PR job comes with, technically, lying to public.

“It’s not lying,” Netsuki had said, “we just don’t want to give public unnecessary fear. They can’t worry over something they do not know.”

He supposed it’s true. Arashiyama didn’t have other option than believing it is true. It’s like spider; you wouldn’t worry about it until you notice it’s there. The same way works with PR, don’t give people more thing to worry about when they already have so much in their plates. Border’s duty is to bring peace to the heart of people, and sometimes, knowing too much would only bring you unnecessary thoughts.

Still, sometimes it’s too much. Arashiyama can already himself being told to answer that the death this time was the cause of unexpected gates when in fact they had already knew about it prior. He has to tell it to the whole world, he has to lie straight out of his teeth that he didn’t know there’d be death casualties this time when he already knew the exact number before the attack even happened.

And then he will have to smile right after that, promising them that next time, the same thing won’t be happening, even if he knows the same thing could have happened if Jin came and announced them about another ‘inescapable death’.  Yet, he still has to smile, because unless he does so, people would worry, people would fear, and Arashiyama doesn’t want to see them like that.

He wants to see everyone smiling, laughing, being at ease with their loved ones, and even if it means he has to lie, and even if the lie eats him away, he would still do it, again and again, because,

“because you are kind,” Tachikawa’s voice has taken a delicate tone, gentle like the smile that has sketches itself on his face in golden hue of sunlight.

Or maybe it is actually the sunlight, because beyond them, the sun has slowly set itself, splashing the endless expanse of blue with purplish-orange paint. They cast shadow over Tachikawa’s feature, accentuating the lines of Tachikawa’s jaw, making it sharper, stronger, making him looks older than a fifteen years old he actually is.

“Because you care for other people, because you are not selfish, Arashiyama. So, don’t you ever, don’t you ever dare to think you’re anything but a brave and selfless person you are. Even if you can’t trust yourself, can you trust me?”

Arashiyama nods, his voice cracking when he answers. “I can.”

“Good,” Tachikawa grins.

And, God, does Arashiyama trusts him. This is Tachikawa Kei, the disciple of strongest man in Border. The boy whose strength Arashiyama yearns for and admires. The boy Arashiyama believes to be as dependable as undependable he looks like.

“Then trust me when I said you are strong, you are kind. You’re not a failure, nor are you selfish. You are not disgusting Arashiyama, you’re one of the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

Other time, Arashiyama would ponder about what Tachikawa exactly meant with that statement, but right now, he’s just too full with too many emotions. Overwhelmed by the kindness Tachikawa is giving him.

“And even if people would blame you for what happened today, trust me, this is not your fault,” he briefly glances to the boy in Arashiyama’s arms before pulling Arashiyama into a hug again. “That’s all you need to remember.”

If only, if only Arashiyama doesn’t trust Tachikawa as much as he does, he doubts Tachikawa’s words would have any effect at all. Such convenient words, flowing out so easily from his mouth. If it was anyone else but Tachikawa, Arashiyama in his current mental state, would doubt their sincerity. Do they mean it at all? Do they really trust Arashiyama to be someone so courageous and noble?

But this is Tachikawa Kei, someone Arashiyama has unconditionally entrusted his life to when he first laid his eyes on Tachikawa’s display of supremacy.

If it’s a lie, so be it. If he’d be hurt later for believing in words so empty, then let him hurt. Let it be the punishment to his sin. But now, in this time that he cannot return to, in this single moment when his world is collapsing beneath him and he can hardly pick himself back together, let him hang on those words to keep him from falling, let him cling on those words so he can keep even a small part of himself together.

There is a boy, no older than ten years old, dead between them. There is sky, growing darker and darker as the sun sinks lower beyond the horizon

 And there is Tachikawa, arms fastened around Arashiyama; arms that hum with strength and spoke of silent promise; of protection, of safety. And in those arms, still so young yet already so dependable, Arashiyama finds his momentary solace. Later, the world will surely come to get him. Later, the world will point their fingers on him, accuse him, pin the blame on him.

But they can wait, the world has to wait, because for now, all Arashiyama wants to do is forget everything as he indulges himself with Tachikawa’s kindness, in the shelter his embrace offers.

:::

When Shinoda assigned him to watch over Arashiyama Squad, Tachikawa is hardly surprised.

The already existing protests from Anti-Border movement aside, the recent attack which costed them another victims, is enough reason to put Arashiyama’s team under surveillance. Arashiyama had reported in a couple of death threats sent to his home, and even though he looked unruffled when they’re addressed directly to him, his composure crumbled upon mentioning some of them suggested harm upon his family.

Tachikawa thinks it’s so like Arashiyama to care much more about his family’s safety that his own. He, after all, is a hero; selfless and altruistic. Brave and self-sacrificing. Something that Tachikawa cannot do, not even when it is Shinoda-san’s life on the line (well, there’s the fact that Shinoda-san is a hundred times stronger than him, and is much more capable of protecting his own than Tachikawa could in his young age).

“Arashiyama had turned down the bodyguard offer and requested them to be assigned to his family instead of himself. Even though Arashiyama himself said he is fine, we cannot help but worry. Especially Netsuki-san. Considering that his family is his biggest motivation, we understand the importance, but, if Arashiyama himself fell, then...” Shinoda falters, pinching the bridge of his nose at the image he had drawn in his head.

Tachikawa tries to imagine it too, if the anti-Border people managed to get their hands on Arashiyama, Mikado’s already crippled trust to Border in the wake of recent event will crumble, too. If the organization that’s supposed to protect them from alien’s strike cannot even protect themselves from human, how could they protect Mikado and its 280.000 inhabitants?

At this rate, Border’s failure regarding anything, even the safety of its agent, will be scrutinized upon, seen as their weakness, a flaw that can be exploited by people who wishes for Border’s downfall. Mass media, especially the ones owned by their opposition will be having a field day, busy painting dark, ugly color over Border’s image.

Border could have thousands of Trigger and cutting edge technology, but without people’s backing, they’d be powerless. In the face of people whose judgement clouded by twisted information supplied by biased media, Border is vulnerable.

At the forefront of Border’s image is one Arashiyama Jun, still so young, barely sixteen years old. Forest-brilliant eyes and sun-lit smile. So bright. So cheerful and kind.

So young. Yet he looks more mature than he actually is, not in his appearance (because he doubts Arashiyama could look anything but youthful), but in the way he carries and presents himself to his surrounding, from his certain words and reassuring presence.

But that Arashiyama, whose mere appearance can bring a sense of security to everyone in their peril, was helpless in front of a death.

Tachikawa still remembers, vividly like the scene has been repainted over and over in his head so he could not forget, the way Arashiyama had sat there in the middle of rubble, frozen, face empty like the body in his arms had been emptied from life. The usually bright green-eyes were dull, the usually warm smile was non-existent, wiped away and replaced by a set of grim line.

Arashiyama, who has always been a sun-radiant presence in Tachikawa’s mind, was a sky of heavy downfall, a reminiscent of the first large scare invasion.

Arashiyama, who has always been ‘adult’ in Tachikawa’s mind in term of psychological-state, was suddenly a fifteen years old again. Weak and powerless. Scared and paralyzed. With his gun lying beside him on dirty floor, those hands were once again weak and feeble, unable to hold anything but death that had been mercilessly thrusted upon him.

Tachikawa still remembers too how Arashiyama had broken down before him. Magnificent glass-work crumbling into beautiful, beautiful dust of silver and gold. Heart-wrenching sound of his cry was epode of tragedy. His trembling fingers on Tachikawa’s sleeves, his trembling shoulders against Tachikawa’s own, they shifted his gravity, grim reminder of the falling ground around them as the two young boys, one feeling lost and one afraid of losing, clung to each other. Grappling for a lifeline. Struggling for a stand.

And that Arashiyama, who had been more vulnerable than a clay pigeon when he cried his heart out in Tachikawa’s arms, is prioritizing his family’s safety over his own.

Mentally, Tachikawa swears. Just how further Arashiyama would expose himself to danger for the sake of his family? Just how much more strain he is willing to take until he’d cave under himself again?

Arashiyama is strong, Tachikawa knows. He had bellied all his worries and anxieties inside very well without anyone noticing, Tachikawa knows. But Tachikawa had seen too how Arashiyama had practically collapse beneath them. Tachikawa had heard too all his fears that terrorized the young boy’s sleep.

Arashiyama Jun is just fifteen years old, for God’s sake. Border has given him gun to hold in adolescence, and now they’re forcing Arashiyama to take the stand while they hide behind his too-young back.

To be fair, Border tried to protect him this time, but Arashiyama refused. Because he is a hero and a hero doesn’t take being protected; hero marches forward, even when arrows are grazing their skin and fangs bared against them, they’d walk on, trudges on, brave and welcoming any challenges, as long as they can keep what’s important to them away from harm’s way.

But just because Arashiyama himself believes it’s the right thing to do, doesn’t mean the rest of Border has to agree or think the same. Tachikawa is obviously against the idea as well, and if possible, he’d slap Arashiyama across the head until he can see how wrong he is. Hell, Arashiyama is supposed to be the smart one, not him.

On top of that, Tachikawa had had a string of his heart plucked that day, had had a resolve sworn and ingrained into his blood; to protect Arashiyama Jun, his heart if not his body, his body if not his heart, in any way he is given privilege of.

“That’s so like him,” Tachikawa remarks, flitting his glance outside the window.

They’re in Shinoda’s office right now, twenty minutes to six. Sky is dawning, burning in brilliant color of purple and orange. Somewhere outside, Border agents are scoring the forbidden area. And in somewhere else, another agents are helping with rebuilding the ruined part of the City.

And where in that somewhere, under the brilliantly sinking sun, is Arashiyama Jun?

Is he drawing his assault-rifle out to protect the city from another incoming attack? Or is he keeping them sheathed in his trigger holder, using the enhanced physical strength trion body gives him to help fixing one of many collapsed building?

“Always so stubborn when it comes to his family,” Shinoda-san chuckles humorlessly, tired. Tachikawa feels sorry for his mentor, and if there is something he could to alleviate the weariness from his already heavy shoulder, it is to accept the new task he’s assigned to.

“Leave it to me,” Tachikawa says, his tone as certain as the slash of his _kogetsu_. “I’ll keep my eyes on him.”

Shinoda smiles, genuine and grateful, not as tired as before, but hard lines are still sketched around his face. Tachikawa grins and prays they’d disappear soon.

Tachikawa prays, too, that he could keep the same jadedness that had ghosted over his mentor’s face when he brought the topic to the table, away from his emerald-eyed junior.

:::

There is bile rising in his throat, hot and acidic, burning fueled by oxygen.

There is bile rising in his throat, climbing. Slow. Taunting him, mocking and teasing. _You can’t get rid of me_ , the bile says as it continues its journey upward. _You can’t push me down._

But Arashiyama does; pushes it down, swallows them, blinking repeatedly to clear his hazy vision.

The bile is back down in his stomach, thick curdle that sizzles and never goes away, they will return one day, jeering, heartlessly laughing, when Arashiyama is at his lowest. When the worry over his family’s safety begins to gnaw again at the edge of his tender heart.

His heart used to be well-protected, with his overflowing optimism and uncontained positivism. Nurtured by his family’s ever so loving teaching and guidance. They’re the Armor of Arashiyama Jun’s heart, but in that formidable Armor, now there are chinks; started as one small crack and has developed into fissures here and there.

 _It’s not supposed to be like this_ , Arashiyama curses. He lets his forehead fall to the table, reveling in the coolness it provides him, imagining that they’d bring down the temperature of scorching worry that’s burning the wall of his stomach.

Wait, that is probably his stomach-acid, when was the last time he ate again?

Again, Arashiyama curses. His mind is now working to recall the last meal he had, and he curses - for the third time - mentally, when he remembers it was yesterday’s lunch; lunch that could pretty much be a brunch since he had it at ten thirty seven in between his PR duty.

He’s been working on his report of this morning’s patrol when his stomach acid suddenly started making its presence known, reminding Arashiyama of its state of emptiness. With the recent invasion, they’ve been busier than ever. The fallen victims and collapsed buildings are enough to warrant longer working hours, young agents like himself included; young active agent like himself who is also ‘The Face of Border’ even more so.

His mind travels back through time, recalling the tragic day. He still remembers the inexorable weight of dead on his arms, the way it had mercilessly tore his confidence. Arashiyama remembers how he had caved under pressure and momentarily lost himself in panic attack.

Then Arashiyama remembers the boy who had come to save him, the boy with his drawn out blades and pewter-colored eyes. The fifteen years old boy whose strength rivals even those older than him. They boy whom Arashiyama trusts with his entire life, and whose arms have given him the shelter he didn’t know he needs.

Tachikawa.

The name sparks a different kind of heat in his belly. When was the last time they met outside of Border duty? When was the last time they talk as senior and junior instead of agent and agent?

Irregular gates are still opening; agents such as Tachikawa and Jin who are blessed with above average combat ability are being mobilized to take care of them. They spend most of their time patrolling the forbidden area, always alert and cautious. If they return to HQ, it’d be somewhere past noon, and by the time, Arashiyama is usually been ushered to another PR duty. They don’t come to school as often anymore either for the same reason.

Stabbing him this time is the icicle of loneliness. He still owes Tachikawa for ‘saving’ him that day, if it wasn’t for the attacker, Arashiyama isn’t sure he can still continue his duty like this. Tachikawa’s words have been his pillar these past months, urging him to move forward while keeping him from collapsing at the same time.

They had been enough, and for a while, Arashiyama was back to his usual self – as Ayatsuji had put it; a ball of sunshine and positivity. But then came the death threats and suddenly, those words are not enough.

On top of the worry over neighbor getting to his family, now Arashiyama has to deal with the crippling fear of human threatening their safety. Trion soldier he can take care of, but fellow human? Even if Arashiyama can stop them using meteora, he can’t kill them, and compared to Trion Soldier, human has easier access to his family.

Despite receiving larger amount of death threats, Arashiyama has flat out refused the security service offered to him. “Please have them watch over my family instead.” Arashiyama had pleaded, and after a drawn out argument with Netsuki and Shinoda, he had won in the end, owing to the fact that the reason he joined Border in the first place is to protect his family, and if he lost them, he wouldn’t have a reason to be in the organization anymore.

It’s a low blow even for him, but Arashiyama is desperate. If he could, he’d be the one watching over his family, but he has his responsibility as Border agents, and his parent had told him to focus on that as well. Still, even with the top-class security service Border had hired keeping an eye on his family members, Arashiyama cannot feel completely at ease.

He cannot let anyone know, not in his position. He must keep his façade, must keep smiling and ensure everyone that everything is going to be okay like he always does. He must not let them worry, because if even, the representative of Border fall, who else would be standing to let the world know that Defense Organization Border is as formidable as always?

 _“Then trust me when I said you are strong,”_ Arashiyama seeks for those words inside his memory, scoops them out, and holds them dear to his heart. Those words are his anchor, keeping him standing tall and strong. Those words are his light, the fire that keeps wild beast of his fear away from his feeble heart.

Right now, Arashiyama is anything but strong. However, if he believes in those words enough, if he repeats them enough, if he thinks of them enough, it can come true. He is strong, he just has to let himself believe in it, then, he’d be.

His stomach twists in pain. Nope, no way he can be strong when his stomach is practically burning himself alive.

 _The report can wait until later_ , Arashiyama resolutely thinks, he’s going to have a lunch (dinner?) first. Raising his head from the table, Arashiyama starts thinking about his meal when his eyes catch a small, blinking window at the bottom corner of his laptop screen. New mail.

He did say report can wait until later, but the same cannot be applied to e-mail. Some of them might contain urgent matter that has to be taken care of immediately before it evolves into something uglier too much for them to deal with it.

Arashiyama grows alert when he sees the name of the sender; _Irie Kazuma_. He is one of the pro-Border journalist that Arashiyama has acquaintance himself with recently, He is a smart man in his thirty, having been spending the majority of his career overseas in conflicted areas, Irie has accepted the concept behind ‘child soldier’ of Border rather easily. He understands that war sometimes calls for something as heartless as making children carry weapons, he sees the importance of it, and has written many articles in Border’s favor in his own endeavor to make people see the sound reason behind Border’s seemingly ‘irresponsible’ action.

He just had another interview session with Irie a couple of days ago, in which the journalist had reported to Arashiyama about the recent development of one prominent anti-Border movement. Thinking that this e-mail might contain information pertaining to that, Arashiyama clicks on the ‘read now’ button.

And by the time he finishes reading, the twist of his stomach turns even more horrible, but it’s the last thing in his mind as he feels his world slowly crumbling with horrible creaks around him.

Deactivating his trigger and leaves it on the table, Arashiyama dashes out from his squad’s room, his destination is the area mentioned in the e-mail; the southern area of Forbidden Area.

:::

The building specified in the map is in relatively better condition compared to the buildings around him. Half of the building is gone, had collapsed diagonally, leaving only almost half of it standing. The mirrors are cracked, the paints are chipping here and there. Some of them had turned yellow with times, green mosses climbing from ground, there are wild grass sprouting from between the cracks on the wall.

At a glance, you wouldn’t think there’ll be anyone there, but the e-mail sent to him earlier says otherwise; they are here, people who had captured Irie-san and used his e-mail to contact Arashiyama. If he wants to keep Fuku and Saho away from harm, he has to come there, alone, without his trigger nor any other Border agent.

Clearly, Arashiyama is not in his right mind, because if he was, he’d surely inform someone. At least Kakizaki or Ayatsuji. At least Shinoda-san and begs him to make sure his twin siblings are alright.

However, anything else other thoughts than his family’s safety has seemingly flown out of his head. The fear that grapples his body is more commandeering, compelling him to do as what the e-mail ordered him to.

In his own flesh, Arashiyama feels naked and bare than ever, but he also feels a twisted sense of power; _this way, I can keep Fuku and Saho safe._

With no doubt, and the only fear trickling in his blood is one over his family’s instead of himself, he enters the building. The destination is the room #1007, the second to last room at the left wing of the building. Arashiyama walks forward, stepping on dirt and rubbles, the thought of the ground caving under him flashes in his mind, but they’re quickly pushed to the back of his head as he gets closer to the room.

For a half-ruined building, the dark navy door still looks sturdy. The lack of thick pile of dust on the handle speaks of recent use. Someone is here indeed. And unless Arashiyama follows what they want him to do, his family is going to bear the burn of it.

He steels himself then opens the door slowly, its weight prevents it from swinging itself open, so Arashiyama has to push it forward. But before he can put energy to his arms, a pair of gloved hands shoot out from the gap of the door, roughly pulling him inside and making Arashiyama’s shoulder knocks harshly with the door.

Arashiyama swears, his instinct tells him to retaliate but the voice above him is as icy as the blood that runs in his veins. “One move and your cute little sister will have to go home without his brother.”

Binding him tighter than the other set of arms around his limbs are the cold, brittle chains called fear. Arashiyama’s hands are limp, so are his legs. The only thing that’s keeping him from collapsing on his feet is the unforgiving hold of his captors. There are five people, two are currently manhandling him, dragging him closer the man who seems to be their ring-leader. Beside the man are another two person; one female with half of her face burnt and one balding man with glasses.

Both of them are holding guns on their hands, a brief glance tells Arashiyama the safeties are still on, and the still logical part of Arashiyama urges him to build an escape plan which includes him stealing the gun from the one of them. It’s viable option, he is confident in his ability to handle gun, he probably has more experience with it than all these people combined.

However another part of Arashiyama, the part that is already crippled with fear and is showing total submission to his captors, takes dominance over his body. It meekly begs him to stay put, to obey whatever these people would ask from him, or else he’s going to lose his siblings. He can’t let that happen, he cannot fail again, not when he hasn’t even make up for his recent one.

With a rough force on his back, Arashiyama is forced to a kneeling position. His knees scrap the harsh ground harshly, yet, Arashiyama can hardly tell with how numb he is slowly turning under the frigid restraint of his apprehension.

“Well, well, well, isn’t this the pretty face of Border?” the man in the middle mocks, voice dripping with amusement and content. Compared to his lackeys, the man is of smaller built, but he makes up the lack of height and muscle with his piercing gaze and intimidating aura.

Arashiyama whimpers, “please, just leave my family out of this. I will do anything…”

The man barks out a harsh laugh, his people's chuckle behind them. He ruffles his messy brown locks, before crouching down so his gaze is level with Arashiyama. With rough, calloused finger under Arashiyama’s chin, he lifts the boy’s face up so they’re eye to eye; trembling green meets violent brown.

Anger. Disgust. Contempt. Sadness. Hatred. Storm brews inside, threatening to swallow Arashiyama whole, but he doesn’t look away, he cannot. If he looks away, the man would only see it as a sign of defiance. If he looks away, he’d frustrate the man. He cannot risk upsetting this man further than he already is. One wrong step, and his siblings will have to pay the cost for him. He cannot let it happen. He must keep them safe. He has sworn, he has promised-

“You want to protect your siblings, don’t you, Jun-kun?” the man asks in fake sweet tone. His lips are curled into a cruel smirk. The finger under his chin is cold. Arashiyama whimpers.

“Yes.”

“I want to protect my siblings too, Haru and Mayuka, they were young, barely seven years old. You know how cute seven years old girls can you, don’t you?”

Arashiyama thinks of his own sister, Saho. Her sunlit smile, her boisterous yet adorable laugh, her small, chubby hands in Arashiyama’s own-

A loud crack resounded as the man’s open palm meets Arashiyama’s cheeks. “Answer me!” He yells, spitting his saliva over Arashiyama’s face.

The sting is nothing, nothing compared to the acidic burn of fear in his stomach. “Sorry-yes, they’re cute. I know.”

“Good, I’m glad you understand” his captor smirks again, and with the same hand he has used to slap Arashiyama, he rubs the reddening cheeks tenderly. “I’m sorry I have to do this to your pretty face, but I can’t help it, you deserve it for being a bad boy. You didn’t answer me immediately when I ask.”

Disgust starts to swirl inside his blood, creeping up from the top of his toe up to his head. Arashiyama wants to scream; _don’t touch me!_ But the icy grip around his throat prevents him too, instead, he can only mutter, “I’m sorry…”

“Good boy,” the man says again, patting the raw cheek once. The touch of his cool hand on Arashiyama’s hot cheeks almost makes him hiss in flinch, but Arashiyama holds himself in. Please this man, obey him, or else he’d- “I’ve seen your sister, Fuku and Saho. They’re very cute, too. Very lively. I’m sure Fuku will grow into a pretty young man like you, and, Saho, she’ll be a very beautiful young lady.”

 _How dare you speak of my sister_ , Arashiyama yells mentally. His blood starts to boil inside his vein, the ice-cold fear is slowly replaced by scorching anger, but the terrified part of him is still in control, gripping the wheel too hard for the rebellious part of him to take over. “Please, don’t hurt them.”

Another slap, and this time, Arashiyama’s body would have fall to the floor if not for the strong grips of his captors on his arms. The taste of iron in his mouth tells him that he has cut the inside of his mouth. Arashiyama swallows them, not sure the man would be pleased if the spit them out. “Oh don’t worry, my buddy Makimura is keeping an eye on them, as long as he’s there, nobody will dare to lay a hand on them, anyone but Makimura of course.”

Makimura? Arashiyama frowns, he has heard that name somewhere.

“Makimura, you know Makimura, right? Makimura Asami, their math teacher. I’m sure you’ve met him when you picked up your brothers from school last week.”

All blood is now visibly drained from his face, his captors must have realized too, because their sinister laughs and chuckles are starting to fall around Arashiyama. Makimura Asami, of course he knows. Arashiyama has personally asked him to watch over his siblings in school.

Makimura has been a victim of Neighbor too, and all these times, he has always shown his support for Arashiyama, going as far as telling him he should just focus on his Border’s duty and leave his siblings under his watch. “I know the feeling of losing someone and I don’t want anyone to suffer the same,” Arashiyama remembers the middle-aged man has told him, a melancholic smile on his weary face. “So, Arashiyama-kun, please protect this city and don’t worry about your siblings, I will take care of them.”

Arashiyama has sensed nothing but sincerity in his sibling's teacher. His grief is real. His sadness is real. And there was nothing in him that could spark anything but sympathy in Arashiyama, there was no room for doubt in his plea, so Arashiyama has trusted him. Arashiyama has believed him.

“Pretty convincing, isn’t he? He was in theatre back in college, we were best bud, me and Makimura. Yukari, too. Noto Yukari, she was pretty, with her rich black hair and mother-like smile. They’re such a beautiful couple, one that came straight from fairy-tale book. Both of them love children, that’s why they decided to become teachers.”

He doesn’t know why this man is telling him this, but the raven smartly keeps his mouth shut - or maybe he’s still too stunted by the betrayal - keeping his gaze resolutely on the leader of his captor, watching his brown eyes are slowly filled with color of mourn and nostalgia.

“Yukari became Haru and Mayuka’s teacher, while Makimura goes to your siblings’ school. They were happy, living their dreams, they even went as far as getting married. But that day, that morning Yukari-“

The man clenches his fist, gritting his teeth. His eyes burn hotter in color of anger. Something flashes inside of Arashiyama’s head; he knows where this story is going, he knows why this man is telling him this. He knows why the man _wants_ him.

“Yukari found out she was pregnant, in this room.” He opens his arms wide, face contorting in anger despite the wide, manic grin he sports. “They contacted me right away, they’re elated. I was happy too, very happy for them. How could I not be, tell me, wouldn’t you be happy if your best friend told you he’s having his children soon?” Arashiyama nods silently. “But that happiness doesn’t last long, you know why?” The man barks, baring his teeth at Arashiyama.

Again, Arashiyama nods, voice surprisingly calm, but he assumes given his almost-numb senses, it is normal. “Neighbor.”

“Fucking neighbor,” he roars. “Fucking neighbor! They took everything away from me, from Makimura, our happiness, our family! They fucking ripped Yukari apart from Makimura, they fucking ripped Haru and Mayuka away from me!!”

Arashiyama is no stranger to this speech, nor this story. Many people had suffered in the hands of Neighbor, agents of civilians. There are fellow agents like Kazama and Miwa who lost their siblings, there are people he met who narrated the same story to him.

And there are the e-mails, piling up in his inbox. Despite Netsuki’s insistence, Arashiyama stubbornly refuses to delete them, he always reads them whenever he has time, often times finding himself inspired after knowing the tragedy that had befall his beloved city, intent on not letting it happening again.

Many of them came from anti-Border movements. Censuring him, who had not lost a single family member, belittling him; _how could you understand our pain?_ Blaming him, hating him for-

“If only you Border,” roughly, the man grabs Arashiyama’s hair and jerks his head upward. Their faces are close, almost touching nose to nose. Arashiyama can feel his hot breath, can almost feel the man’s anger bubbling under his skin. “were not so fucking slow, they could have been saved. Yukari, Mayuka, and Haru, they could have been alive! Why didn’t you appear sooner!? Why didn’t you appear faster?! WHY??”

Once again, Arashiyama becomes the victim of the man’s hateful slap. This time, the two men behind him do not bother in keeping their arms on him, letting Arashiyama falls sideways, shoulder colliding roughly with the hard concrete. He coughs, spitting out the blood that has been pooling in his mouth. Before he can gather himself, he feels a strong kick to his stomach.

Gasping, Arashiyama resolutely keeps his mouth shut. Pain blooms inside his already twisting guts, but he must keep quiet, he must obeys the man; he asked him ‘why’? _Why?_ How could Arashiyama know? He wasn’t even in Border when it happened, how is he supposed to know?

 “I ask you!” the man bellows, landing another blow to the exact same spot he had abused earlier. “I told you to answer me when I asked you. Or what, you want to sacrifice your siblings, too?”

His numb body suddenly comes back alive at the mention of his siblings. Rage, for once, returns to his body with full force, surging noisily in his veins, taking charge and control over his previously petrified body. “How dare you-“

“Just like that boy, you let him die, didn’t you?”

The man smirks down on him, and as soon as it came, the flame of anger that had lit Arashiyama’s spirit aflame is gone. “What-“

“Yuuto,” the woman with burn-scar on her face speaks, voice trembling with contempt. She looks at Arashiyama with gaze akin to looking at disgusting bug. “My brother, you let him die. After all pretty words you spew to us, after all promise of safety you used to buy our trust, you let my brother died!”

His mind flashes vividly as the memory begins to replay itself. 20 casualties. 20 deaths. In place of 280.000, a small number. The blinking red digits. Jin’s resigned smile. The collapsed building around him. The fallen boy. His abandoned riffle. His failure-

“I hate you,” this time, it’s the woman who wrenches Arashiyama’s hair, forcing him to meet her scorching-blue eyes. “I hate Border, but more than them, I hate you the most, you fucking liar! Do you know how Yuuto fucking adored you? Do you know how he’s always going on and on about joining Border because he wanted to be like ‘Arashiyama-san’?!”

His mistake. His fault. If only he was faster, if only he was stronger, if only- “I’m sorry,” Arashiyama feels his own eyes burning with tears. The prickling pain on his cheek, or the pounding ache in his stomach is nothing compared to the merciless twist of guilt on his heart. “I’m sorry, I should have- I could have-“

“Then why didn’t you?!” she screams, gripping Arashiyama’s hair stronger, causing him to wince in pain. She chokes, and a single frustrated tear makes its ways down her cheeks, “why didn’t you save him? Why did you let him die? Why did you even join Border if you cannot save a seven year old boy? Why are you telling us all those things you said on the TV, when they’re all nothing more empty promise you cannot even keep?!”

“I’m sorry,” is all Arashiyama could utter. And right before his eyes, the woman crumbles. A heart-wrenching sob tears itself from her throat, she screws her eyes shut and Arashiyama just wants to cry with her, because-

“He’s just a boy,” she wails. “Why can’t you save him like you promised you would?”

There’s another kick on his stomach but Arashiyama can barely register it, too suffocated by the whirlwind of emotion. Numbness has taken reign over his body once again, tears flow freely down his cheeks. He closes his eyes, even if he knows closing them won’t stop him from seeing the scene of that day over and over again; the wrecked building, the dry rubbles, the bloodied, lifeless body half buried under the concrete slabs.

  _Why can’t he save them, indeed?_ His mind begins to wonder. _Didn’t he promise to save them? Didn’t he promise he’d keep the safe from Neighbor’s touch? Didn’t he promise them he wouldn’t let the same tragedy befall them again? Why did he even make the promise in the first place? Why did he-_

“Answer me!!” the ring leader roars, and it the midst of it, more clear than anything, sharper than the pain that blooms in various part of his beaten body, is the woman’s cry.

“Why can’t you save him?”

“…because I’m a failure…” his lips utter weakly.

_“Do you really believe that?”_

Arashiyama snaps his eyes open, and almost simultaneously, he watches with baited breath how the heavy-blue door is slammed open with a loud bang, catching everyone by surprise.

“What the hell?” His captors snap angrily at the same time, whirling around to the direction of the newly opened door, momentarily changing their focus away from Arashiyama.

“Well, well, well, look who’s here,” a drawl, then a boy steps in the room. Unruly, dark-brown hair, tail of a coat in similar color swishing behind him. One hand curled around the handle of his blade that’s resting on his hip, his other hand is raised slightly below his chest, palm turning upward.

Against this boy, even the adults freeze their movement, The two who had been holding Arashiyama earlier even step back. It’s as if they could sense the strength radiating from that young boy; a strength that renders them speechless, instilling fear deep in their body. “You…”

But they’re ignored because the boy is already shifting his gaze to Arashiyama who’s lying weakly on the floor, blood dripping from the corner of his lips and tears staining his dirtied face that is half-covered by his unkempt hair.

 _“Do you really believe that?”_ The question rings again in his head, louder than anything, clearer than the descending silence. Tachikawa scowls, growling lowly in his throat after assessing the condition of his junior’s body.

_I don’t. No. I don’t believe it. I’m not weak. I’m not a failure. I’m stronger. I’m better than this. But it’s too much, this is too much. Everything is too much. So please, please, please, save me, please, I beg of you, please-_

He blinks, and a lone, single drop slides down his already wet cheeks. He locks his gaze with Tachikawa, and with voice that denies none of his emotion, he says,

“-help me.”

Tachikawa begins, voice tight with venom, “which one of you,” on his open palm, a green ball of light appears, it grows into a large, glowing cube. _Meteora trigger_ , Arashiyama recognizes it immediately. Border agent cannot hurt people with trigger, but Meteora can land a blow enough to knock adult unconscious. “Did that to him?”

The boy – Tachikawa – sweeps his gaze along the occupants of the room. The five adults visibly flinch under his intimidating glare and the glowing cube floating above his palm. These men might not know about the actual nature of Trigger, but Arashiyama assumes, like any other anti-Border activist, they possess, albeit small, knowledge about Trigger, and have recognized the cube Tachikawa has produced to be one.

“You can’t-“

The ring leader starts but before he can speak any further, Tachikawa growls again, this time more feral. His eyes glinting with anger, “I asked you, and if I remember correctly, you told Arashiyama to answer when you asked him.”

“You listened-“

“WHO?” Tachikawa’s voice booms in the wrecked room, sending shiver down Arashiyama’s spine, and no doubt, giving same effect to his captors.

When none of them answers, Tachikawa steps forward, and Arashiyama can almost see the way fear rattles their bones. The bald man with glasses quickly raises his gun, pointing it toward Tachikawa with unsteady hand. When he speaks, his voice trembles, “don’t move any closer or I’d shoot you!”

Tachikawa regards him with bored, disinterested gaze, and as if to prove his aloofness, he approaches him. The man recoils, but he doesn’t draw his gun back, gripping the handle tighter in his shaky hold. A quick glance toward the weapon, and the attacker scoffs, “shouldn’t you know how to use a gun first before buying them? The safety is still on.”

The boy raises his hand that has been resting on the handle of his sword, and reflectively in his panic, the bald man pulls the trigger. However, as the safety is still on, whatever effect he had expected doesn’t come. In a blink of an eye, Tachikawa already has his fingers curled around the cool metal, and wrenches it away from the bald man’s faltering grasp. He throws it behind his back, the gun falls, clatter noisily on the floor, and before anyone can react further, Tachikawa has connected his knee with the man’s stomach.

With the enhanced energy of Trion Body, the force of his hit is enough to send the man flying. His body hits the wall with loud, resounding crack. He crumples there, unmoving, head hanging low, probably no longer conscious from the shock of hitting the wall so hard.

Silence falls over the room, the air becomes frigid with terror as Tachikawa advances further, green cube still floating threateningly over his open palm. “Well,” he grunts, “who’s next?”

The woman has stopped crying, she is looking at Tachikawa with fear, her gun lies several feet away from way, apparently, she has discarded it when she started abusing Arashiyama. None of her comrades seem to remember its existence, too petrified by the death-glare Tachikawa sends their way.

“You can’t,” the ring leader tries again, his words cracking in the end, “you’re not allowed to hurt civilians. You-“

“Eye for an eye. Tooth for a tooth,” Tachikawa snarls, stopping right before him. Even though the man is couple of inches taller than him, the sixteen years old boy seems to stand taller, looming over with intimidating presence. “We’re not allowed to hurt civilian unless they try to hurt us in the first place.”

His eyes flick to Arashiyama’s direction, and it’s totally mesmerizing how the tension pooling behind his eyes melts away like ice under the heat upon meeting Arashiyama’s green ones. Tenderly, like mother would a child, Tachikawa asks.

“Isn’t that right, Arashiyama?”

Arashiyama lets his eyes fall shut, lets the last of his anxiety and apprehension leaves his body. His split lips curl into a smile even though it hurts his smarting mouth. Hoarsely, he replies, “yes.”

Then he lets go to, of his consciousness, entrusting himself to the comforting embrace of the darkness that promises him comfort from the heartlessness of reality.

He doesn’t dream, but even if he does, all he can see behind his closed lids is a pair of warm, warm, understanding pewter eyes.

All he can feel is warm, warm, welcoming arms.

:::

The room is dead quiet, the other six occupants inside the room – including the sleeping, bruised boy in his arms – lie unstirred.

Arashiyama’s captors are already knocked out cold by the blow of his meteora, Tachikawa has piled them together in the corner of the room, and now he’s in the process of tying their hands with ropes in case one of the wake up and try to pull another idiotic stunt.

Shinoda-san has been alerted, and he’s sending some people from Border his way. The part of their memory after Tachikawa’s appearance would be wiped out, leaving no trace of sixteen years old boy in their memory. Though the action of attacking civilian was necessary at the time to save Arashiyama, there is no doubt the information would just put Border in perilous situation.

 “It was for the best,” Shinoda-san has told him gravely, but there was no disapproval in his voice. “Thank you for fulfilling your duty, Kei.”

His duty, Tachikawa thinks as he moves from working on the bald man to the unconscious woman. He recalls the treatment she gave Arashiyama and it ignites the fire of anger back in his gut. Purposely, Tachikawa treats her roughly, intending to just knock her in the head again if she wakes up.

As per ordered, Tachikawa has spent the majority of his time outside of school and Agent Duty tailing after Arashiyama. With Tsukimi’s help, his schedule has been adjusted so he can carry out his side-mission conveniently. There were times when he and Arashiyama had to patrol together, and there were even more ‘accidental’ meeting in school or cafeteria. Thankfully, Arashiyama never suspect a thing about their sudden frequent meetings. Tachikawa is not surprised, the young boy had so many things in his plate to notice something as trivial as his senior popping everywhere around him.

Watching Arashiyama these past few weeks, Tachikawa quickly learns a couple of things about the boy.

The most prominent thing being; Arashiyama is a _fucking good_ actor.

Even though Tachikawa is infamous for being as dull as a post when it comes to almost anything excluding fighting-related, he is on the sharper side with his intuition, and that intuition is the one that took the largest part in picking up Arashiyama’s splendid talent at acting.

He is not saying that Arashiyama’s cheerful and never ending positive behavior is a fraud, but there were moments when his exuberance is less genuine than usual. Tachikawa would have missed it, too, if he hasn’t been observing Arashiyama intently;

The way he’d blink a couple of times in the middle of his speech before suddenly turning up a mega-watt smile as if to divert people’s attention away from his momentary falter; the way he’d refuse speak eye to eye without a second or two break of eye-contact (he usually looks into their eyes until he’s done speaking); the way he fiddles with his pen more than necessary throughout the meeting; the way his smile would fall but not completely - still there on his face but gaining a slight, almost unnoticeable strain.

Unless you really pay attention to him, you would hardly notice these very trivial differences in behavior to be a sign of weariness. But Tachikawa has been keeping his eyes on Arashiyama for a while; the boy’s pattern of attitude has been registered unintentionally to his consciousness.

He becomes aware of which smile is real and which is not, he can easily tell the moment when Arashiyama would raise his hand before voicing his opinion in the meeting, he doesn’t have to look to know how Arashiyama would start nagging Jin about his unhealthy diet just by the slight shift of his tone.

And, yes, Arashiyama Jun nags, a lot. But that’s beside the point and later, he’d ponder on how he actually likes it when Arashiyama starts nagging him about his negligence toward his academic responsibility.

The point is; watching Arashiyama these past few weeks, Tachikawa quickly learns a couple of things about the boy to the point he can confidently say he is adept at reading his behavior. Thus, he can say that Arashiyama is a fucking good actor who can impressively fool his superiors with that perfect smile of his.

But he cannot fool Tachikawa, now he can’t. Not anymore, not when Tachikawa can read him like an open book. Not when Tachikawa has already witnessed the exact moment Arashiyama crumbled. Not when Arashiyama had let Tachikawa see him in his lowest.

Giving a last hard pull to make sure the rope is secure enough around the ( _ugly, disgusting, stupid_ ) woman’s wrists, Tachikawa deems his work here is done. He stands up then stretches a little, muscles flexing under his skin to release some unwanted knots. Tachikawa walks toward where Arashiyama is lying, asleep on his side at the center of room.

He kneels beside his junior, looking down intently the half-covered face. Arashiyama’s usually silky-looking locks of black, feathery hair is now messy, limply falling all over his face. Tachikawa brushes the dirty yet still soft strand of black hair away, revealing his swollen cheeks. Stroking it tenderly, he curses under his breath.

How dare did they do this to him? Out of everyone responsible in Border, Arashiyama is the least deserving of this cruel treatment. He is just fifteen years old, for God’s sake. Fifteen, with heart as pure as gold if not more. Fifteen, and always putting himself before others. Fifteen, and never once let other people know the heavy burden he has to shoulder. Fifteen, and never once he cries out for help

Fifteen, and so young, so kind, so gentle. So brave, and admirable. So selfless, always putting himself before others to the point he can perfectly lie straight through his teeth with an equally perfect smile. So self-sacrificing, to the point he never lets people see when he falls because he fears he’d just drag them down with him.

Tachikawa remembers, remembers thinking that Arashiyama reminds him of the sun; strong, brilliant, and magnificent.

Alone.

Center of attention, surrounded by countless of stars but alone, always alone.

Isn’t it hard? Isn’t it painful? Wanting to get close, a little bit closer to the others but cannot due to the constraint of gravity.

“Isn’t it lonely?” he wonders out loud. The question tumbles out from his lips for no one to answer.

Gently, like one would treat a wounded animal, Tachikawa slips one hand under Arashiyama’s torso, and another one under his neck, carefully cradling his head. He lifts Arashiyama’s body into a sitting position, letting the boy’s upper body weight lies on his own. Arashiyama doesn’t stir, still sleeping soundly, there is no frown marring his handsome face. Tachikawa is relieved; at least his anxiety doesn’t chase him to his sleep.

“It must be, isn’t it?” He mumbles the answer to his own question, vaguely registering the way Arashiyama’s hair tickles his chin. Compared to the day when Tachikawa found him in the middle of that ruin, his body feels lighter. Not surprising, he must have barely eaten with all the duties he had to attend.

The young attacker swears to himself that he will personally make sure Arashiyama eats properly once he recovers, hell, he’d even report it to Shinoda-san. He’d drag Arashiyama himself to eat and watch him until he finishes the last of his meal if necessary.

There are some people who cannot fall in Border; people like him and Shinoda-san who are the eyes of Border’s spears; people like Jin who pulls the string from behind; and people like Arashiyama, who is practically ‘Border’ himself for large population of Mikado..

Even if him and Jin fell, citizen would hardly stir. But if Arashiyama fell, it would certainly cause a ruckus among citizen. Fear would spread like fire on well-oiled ground.

That’s the sole reason why Arashiyama must not – _could not_ , is _not allowed to_ – fall. The weight that he has to bear is different. And how unfair it is of the adult to make such young kid carry it? How cruel and irresponsible it is of the adult to make Arashiyama stand in the position when he’s not allowed showing vulnerability like children his age do?

It’s not only Arashiyama, there’s Jin as well with his own load to carry. They’re both only fifteen years old, only a year younger than Tachikawa himself. Yet Tachikawa can already see the shade of jadedness in their expression when they thought nobody is looking. And as a senior, sometimes he’d find himself aching for them.

What can he do? Sometimes he’d wonder. What can he do to ease the worry from his young juniors? What can he do to support them so they won’t fall with the weight that’s bringing them down?

What can he do so Arashiyama can keep on walking forward and inspire people with his courageousness?

What can he do so Arashiyama can keep up his façade and continue making people trust in the organization he’s representing?

That’s not it, isn’t it? That shouldn’t be his motive in the first place. It’s not about Border anymore; it’s about a fifteen years old boy named Arashiyama Jun who’s shackled by chains too heavy yet is expected to walk forward. Yet, Arashiyama walks on, even if his ankles are already bloodied. Yet Arashiyama refuses to take off the restrain, always saying “it’s okay” with a smile on his face. Because he knows if he took them of, another person just has to wear it and he can’t bear watching it happening.

Because Arashiyama Jun is kind. Because Arashiyama Jun is selfless like that. Because Arashiyama Jun is the sun, shining so brilliantly while giving life to the others while he is burning himself out.

And if he cannot release Arashiyama from the shackles, what can he do to at least alleviate the pain? What can he do so Arashiyama can forget his misery?

“I guess there’s only one thing I can do, huh,” Tachikawa mutters, holding his sleeping junior closer until Arashiyama’s head is perfectly tucked under his chin.

Like this, they fit, like puzzle pieces. Like this, Tachikawa prays, Arashiyama can feel like he belongs despite his shortcomings. Like this, Tachikawa hopes, Arashiyama can feel safe.

Like this, Tachikawa wishes, that next time, Arashiyama would let his guard down around Tachikawa. Because even if Tachikawa can see, even if he extends his hand to help, they’d be futile unless Arashiyama let Tachikawa in.

His comm buzzes in his ears and Shinoda-san’s voice trickles in. Tachikawa only pay half-attention to it, too absorbed in his own thought about the sleeping boy in his arms.

:::

Arashiyama wakes up to blanket of lethargy and sluggishness.

And actual blanket drapes over him.

And – Arashiyama blinks his bleary eyes a couple times before squinting them hard in disbelief at seeing a mop of natural-curly hair filling his vision.

“Tachikawa-san?”

It is impossible to mistake who that hair belongs to. Well, of course unless you’re not Border personnel, you wouldn’t be able to tell. But Arashiyama is one, and this person happened to be littering in the corner of his anxious mind lately, so there is absolutely no way he would not know who this is.

Tachikawa is – quite literally – sleeping on Arashiyama. He is sitting on a pipe chair by the left side of the bed, hands folded right on top of Arashiyama’s torso, acting as the cushion of his head that is currently turned away from Arashiyama’s face. The weight is supposed to be suffocating, but Arashiyama actually finds it relaxing.

Arashiyama lifts his right hand that is not buried under Tachikawa’s weight, and carefully, he rests his palm atop of Tachikawa’s head. The elder boy stirs slightly but doesn’t wake up, mumbling something under his breathe (that suspiciously sounds like _mochi_ ), before returning to his slumber.

Sighing in relief, Arashiyama lets a small smile creeps to his face. Under his palm between his digits, Tachikawa’s hair feels soft. He remembers there was time when he used to wonder how does Tachikawa’s hair feel; is it soft and silky? Is it coarse and dry? It was something that crossed his mind purely out of curiosity, Arashiyama never expected discovering such trivial thing could actually uplift his mood.

He spends his time like that; idly playing with Tachikawa’s cotton-candy like hair. He doesn’t remember when was the last time he ever feel this at ease, and being offered with this luxury, Arashiyama just wants to revel in it a little bit more, just a little longer, before the worry of outside comes world comes back after him.

For now, he just wants to forget. For now, he-

Tachikawa mumbles something yet again, and this time, he actually turns around facing Arashiyama who feels all oxygen is suddenly leaving his lungs.

He has been _close_ to Tachikawa before but never this _close_ , and never when Tachikawa is as unguarded as this. Though the attacker always has lax expression, as someone who’s as adept at wearing a mask, Arashiyama can tell there was never the time when Tachikawa doesn’t put his defense up. Now, though, Tachikawa is fast asleep, by no means vulnerable but he definitely looks younger without the usual cloak of power he wears around himself.

His hooded eyelids are closed, hiding his intriguing eyes from view. His lashes are surprisingly long even if they’re on sparse side, and they’re as chocolatey-brown as his hair. His nose-bridge isn’t as high as Arashiyama’s and is definitely flatter, his cheek-bones aren’t that pronounced either, but it compliments his face structure nicely, especially with how sharper the lines of his jaw has grown this past couple of months.

Tachikawa Kei is an attractive sixteen years old boy, and Arashiyama has little to no doubt he’d grow even more good-looking as he ages, and he laments over how people often overlook this part of Tachikawa.

“Really, you can even be the Face of Border,” Arashiyama mumbles wistfully, untangling a knot in Tachikawa’s voluminous hair.

He freezes when his finger got stuck in a strand of hair, which makes him ended up pulling it too hard. Tachikawa groans in pain, and Arashiyama  finds himself stifling his breath nervously while cursing inside his head; _stupid, stupid, stupid_.

Tachikawa scrunches his face, body tensing before he relaxes at the same time as he opens his eyes. Arashiyama watches then with baited breathe, mesmerized by the way his lids slid open so slowly to reveal a pair of enigmatic eyes that will soon reflect Arashiyama’s stunned face.

Tachikawa’s eyes are finally fully opened, but they still look dazed, as if he is not completely returned from the land of dream. They maintain their gazes on each other – green meets dark-pewter, and Arashiyama’s head scrambles to remember how to breathe.

The elder boy got his mouth half-opened ajar. Arashiyama desperately tries not to stare at those lips – not that he can with Tachikawa’s sleepy gaze pinning him on place.

Correction; everything that is Tachikawa Kei is pinning Arashiyama on place, from his weight to his gaze, even his breathe, and it goes as far as his mind.

“…Arashiyama?”

Arashiyama whimpers, he feels a zap of electricity running down his spine at the slight gruff in Tachikawa’s baritone voice. His heart goes haywire under his skin, and he seriously wouldn’t be surprised if his chest suddenly burst from the escalating speed of his heartbeats. He goes red when he’s thinking of how Tachikawa must have noticed it with how he’s practically still sleeping on Arashiyama.

“Um,” Arashiyama stutters ineloquently, he is not sure if he is breathing properly because he sounds like a man being strangled.

Well, since Tachikawa’s weight is practically blocking his windpipe, he guesses it isn’t far off from the truth.

Tachikawa removes one of his hand from under his head but lies still on top of Arashiyama’s torso. He reaches out until his fingers are on Arashiyama’s cheek. When Arashiyama whimpers this time, it’s from the dull sting that blooms under Tachikawa’s tender touch.

Anger flashes in Tachikawa’s eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it came. He lets his fingers rest on Arashiyama’s inflamed skin, frowning in concern, “does it hurt?” He asks, still sounding dazed but definitely more awake.

“Umm,” Arashiyama tries again, “I don’t- I’m not sure…”

“That means the pain killer is working,” Tachikawa’s lips curl into relieved smile, and Arashiyama is not sure whether he should focus on that or the way Tachikawa’s thumb actually slides lower it’s almost grazing his lips.

Whatever pain killer they’ve been drugging him with, it definitely doesn’t help with _this_ – whatever thing Tachikawa is doing to him, and it doesn’t do anything at all to help Arashiyama organize his thoughts together to form a proper sentence, “what?” he blurts out helplessly.

“Your cheek is swollen, quiet horrible if I must say,” Tachikawa explains, not minding Arashiyama’s sudden disoriented state at all as if he already expected it. But suddenly, his face and tone of voice falls, Arashiyama feels his own stomach drops at the downturn of Tachikawa’s mood. “Sorry, I could have barge in sooner, but I had to wait until they reveal their plan.”

And just like that, the magic around them has been broken. The curtain of peacefulness around them is ripped apart brutally by the memories that barrage itself into Arashiyama’s head, awakening the sleeping terror inside of him.

The e-mail. The threat to his family. The broken building. The four men. The crying woman. Makimura-sensei. Fuku and Saho. Fuku and Sa-

 _Why can’t you save him_?

Arashiyama feels the familiar pang of terror stabs mercilessly through his chest, skewering his heart. If he was previously smothered in pleasant, heart-tingling way, this time, it’s the exact opposite of that. It’s as if someone has forcefully shoved his hand down Arashiyama’s throat to rip his lungs apart.

He tries to utter his siblings name but they come up as a wrecked choke. He can’t breathe, no matter how hard he try to inhale a mouthful of oxygen, he just can’t. His gaze starts to swim, panic settles in like cold, freezing blanket. A red signal goes off in his head, loud and blaring. His body alerts him that _he has to breathe, now_ , but it just sends him crashing into another wave of panic which worsens his already suffocated state.

Parting thru the sea of his torrential anxiety and the loud echo of the woman’s cry, are Tachikawa’s hands – large, warm, encompassing hands – holding his cheeks with tenderness of man holding an infant that reminds Arashiyama of  the first time he ever carried his siblings; careful and protective, firm but gentle.

Scared, because one wrong touch and everything will fall apart.

Arashiyama doesn’t even think, he just lets his trembling hands shoot up until they’re covering Tachikawa’s larger ones. He’s not falling, not when he has Tachikawa with him; not with Tachikawa’s weight grounding him, not when his hands are keeping him in place, not when his gaze – afraid yet determined – is telling him ‘ _it’s gonna be alright’._

Not when Arashiyama has been practically clinging desperately onto his words these past months; _“Then trust me when I said you are strong.”_

Yes. Arashiyama is strong. He’s strong so he’s not going to fall apart. He’s not going to let himself break anymore, because he is strong. He won’t let this – this anxiety – cripple him anymore, he won’t let it win, not this time when Tachikawa is so desperately trying to hold himself together. It won’t crush him. It won’t, because Arashiyama is strong, and as long as he believes in that, he’d be. As long as he keeps telling himself that, he _could_ be.

“Breath, it’s okay,” Tachikawa, who’s hovering above him and nose is barely inches away from Arashiyama’s own, says. “Breathe with me, okay? Can you do that?”

The woman’s cry starts to die down in his head. He tries to focus on Tachikawa’s voice instead, hoping it could eventually replace the accusing voice. Arashiyama nods; _yes, I can, I can breathe with you_.

“Good.” Tachikawa smiles and just like that, Arashiyama finds his lips curling upward too. “Then follow me, okay? When I said inhale, inhale with me. Okay, Arashiyama?”

The said boy nods again, only when he blinks and feels wetness trailing down his cheeks, he realized he has been crying. But Tachikawa is smiling, Tachikawa is telling him to inhale and Arashiyama inhales with him, feeling the way Tachikawa’s chest that is hovering over his rises to drink in a mouthful of air.

“Exhale,” Tachikawa says – commands him. Tachikawa is not reprimanding him for crying. Tachikawa is only helping him to breathe again. Arashiyama obeys him, his throat still burns but at least he’s getting his supply of oxygen back.

They repeat the routine a couple of time until Arashiyama’s breathing returns to regular and his lungs aren’t trying to strangle him anymore.

“Better?” the elder asks him, brows furrowed together in concern. His hands are still trapped between Arashiyama’s cheeks and hands, injecting comforting warmth into Arashiyama’s frigid skin.

“Yes, thank you,” Arashiyama manages to answer weakly. He closes his eyes, focusing in trying to fix his breathing back to normal so he can speak properly. Tachikawa waits for him, patient, quiet. He appreciates the thoughtfulness, and it alone is enough driving force for Arashiyama to collect himself back together. “Fuku and Saho, are they alright? Where are they?”

“Shinoda-san has personally taken on watching your family, he’s currently with them in Mikado Central Hotel, they’ll be staying there under the situation is under control,” Tachikawa informs him. “That Makimura whatever had been arrested too. We’re charging him for sending death threats. But your family doesn’t know he’s part of a gang that got you captured. Heck, your family doesn’t even know you’re captured.”

Startled, Arashiyama probes, “why?”

“If they know, there’s a chance other people would too. We can’t risk outsider leaking this information. If the citizen found out you’ve been captured, Border’s credibility would-“ Tachikawa falters, finally averting his gaze away from Arashiyama for the first time since he opened his eyes.

“That’s-“ Arashiyama stutters, “but that’s-“

 _Unfair_ , he wants to wail. He’s already hiding his emotional distress from his own family on his own volunteer, but to have other people actually commanding him to – demanding him to – keep things away as important as his own physical safety from his family, is different issue altogether.

 _How dare they,_ Arashiyama would yell if not for the lump in his throat. He could only sob weakly, once again letting sadness washes over him. More tears, and Tachikawa quickly tries to wipe them away using his all-too-warm thumbs.

“Fuck. Arashiyama, sorry. I, Shinoda-san, too, we were against it. But- fuck, sorry. They’re right, if people know you had been captured, if people know what had happened to you-“

As if on cue, the dull sting on his cheeks intensifies. Arashiyama winces and Tachikawa’s fingers froze. He cries harder at the loss of comforting touch, and Tachikawa, this time more carefully, continues to run his thumbs under Arashiyama’s eyes.

“We’re already struggling with the damage control from the recent attack, and if this too got out, it will be even harder, especially on you and your team.” Tachikawa tries to reason.

He sounds guilty, dejected even, and Arashiyama hates hearing Tachikawa like that. Tachikawa is supposed to be the stronger between the two of them, and if even Tachikawa is down, who’s supposed to keep them afloat?

Deep down, Arashiyama knows his expectation toward Tachikawa is as unjust as what Border expects of him is wrong. Deep down, Arashiyama also knows that the expectation Border has toward him is actually reasonable.

He can already imagine what’s going to happen if people knew he had been captured. What Tachikawa said is true; it’d serve no good to him and his team. People would lose their belief on him if they know that Arashiyama who’s supposed to protect them cannot even defend himself. If that happened, Arashiyama would have to prove himself once again, and it wouldn’t be an easy ride.

He’s already exhausted the way he is, he’s not sure if he could bear any more pressure.

This is the best way, for him and for Border. This is the most logical thing to do, but it doesn’t stop it from being hurt.

“I’m so sorry,” Tachikawa apologizes earnestly. He looks like he’s in pain as if he’s grieving along with Arashiyama, and it stirs guilt inside Arashiyama’s chest. “You don’t deserve this. None of this should happen to you. God, I could have-“ Tachikawa groans, frustrated. “I could have helped you sooner so you don’t have to hurt, but they told me to wait. But I shouldn’t listen to them. Not only had they made you suffer unnecessarily long, now they demanded something as ridiculous as this from you. And yet I’m still fucking helpless-“

“Don’t say that!” Arashiyama interjects, annoyance slipping into his voice. “You’re not helpless, Tachikawa-san. If it wasn’t for you I won’t be here. If it wasn’t for you-“

If it wasn’t for Tachikawa, Arashiyama would still be stuck on that day; with Yuuto lying lifeless in his arms, crumbling under the pressure of his own guilt. That he is able to come this far today is all thanks to Tachikawa, so to hear Tachikawa belittling himself is like an insult to  him. If Tachikawa – whom he’s clinging onto – is weak, what does it make him then?

“You saved me, Tachikawa-san. I was hurt, yes, but you protected me. You kept me from being hurt further.” He tries to smile despite his tears. Slowly yet surely, Arashiyama cradles Tachikawa’s face with his hands, mirroring what Tachikawa is doing to him.

“I’m sorry,” Tachikawa sighs, closing his eyes as he presses their head together.

Arashiyama sniffs, “don’t be, I know you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Now that their position is switched, it feels surreal. It’s supposed to be the other way around; Tachikawa reassuring Arashiyama who’s too tormented in his own guilt. It gives Arashiyama a sense of confidence too, that even if he’s unsure about himself, he can still support Tachikawa.

“You really don’t deserve any of this, Arashiyama. I really- I can’t stand seeing you suffering alone like this. You’re just fifteen, you’re not even a high school student, but yet-“ Tachikawa pauses, huffing in frustration. “These horrible things had to happen to you. I don’t like it. I hate it,” he admits petulantly.

“But, I’m not the only one suffering, Tachikawa-san.” Arashiyama says bitterly. “Other people have it hard as well. Shinoda-san, Jin-san,” he opens his eyes and at the same time, Tachikawa opens his too. Their close proximity startles him but he is too taken by the sincerity in Tachikawa’s eyes to care. “And you, too, Tachikawa-san. You are all my important family, and if you’re hurting, then I have to hurt with you too.”

Tachikawa shakes his head, clearly disagrees with Arashiyama’s thought. “It doesn’t have to be like that. You don’t-“

“But I want to,” Arashiyama insists. “I know I do not deserve all these horrible things happening to me, but they came with the path that I’ve chosen. I’m aware of these risks, so I have to-“

“Even if it kills you?” This time, it’s Tachikawa’s turn to cuts in. “Even if it’s slowly eating you away?”

Arashiyama blinks, perplexed. “What?”

“Don’t you think I don’t know? I’ve been ordered to watch you, Arashiyama, that’s how I managed to save you today. After you turned down the bodyguard offer, Shinoda-san assigned me to do it. I observed you, so I noticed. I can tell how distressed you’ve been lately.”

Arashiyama can only stare at Tachikawa’s depthless eyes, too astonished to react. He didn’t realize it at all, but now, everything is slowly piecing themselves together; the sudden increase of Tachikawa’s appearance around him, the way he’d suddenly pop up whenever Arashiyama was feeling down just to prattle on about his recent silly antics and successfully distracted him from his depressive thoughts.

How could he be so fucking blind? For someone whose mind is occupied with his encouraging words, Arashiyama barely noticed Tachikawa at all.

“I know it has been a hard, stressful weeks for you,” Tachikawa says softly. “And if you don’t want anyone else to know, then it’s fine. But at least let me know. If it’s just an ear to listen, I can give. If it’s just a shoulder to lean on, then I can give you, too. Because I hate seeing you in pain, Arashiyama. I’m not the brightest person around, but I have pride in my strength. If it’s just to protect you, I have confidence I can do it.”

“You can,” Arashiyama smiles wetly. Even though he still cannot figure out how he actually feels at discovering that Tachikawa has been – practically – stalking him, there is no denying he feels immensely touched by his attentive gesture and earnestness.

That’s what he had wanted, right? Since the first time he had laid his eyes on Tachikawa, ever since he had seen the raw display of strength and the way Tachikawa suddenly comes alive whenever he dances with his swords, Arashiyama has yearn for it.

Regardless of what Tachikawa wants him to believe, Arashiyama is still weaker than him, and it’s only natural that he’d be attracted to Tachikawa’s prowess. It’s almost intoxicating in the way it beckons Arashiyama to trust him with his life, luring him with promise of safety.

“The question is would you let me?” Tachikawa inquires then, eyes searching the forest green. “Would you let me, Arashiyama?”

 _Would he?_ Arashiyama questions himself, while being enthralled by the dark sea that is Tachikawa’s eyes at the same time.

Would he let Tachikawa in? Would he let Tachikawa see even the darkest part of him that he doesn’t let even his parent see? Could he bare himself in front of Tachikawa? Could he stand the possibility that Tachikawa would leave him after knowing how ugly Arashiyama can be?

All the scary thoughts leave him breathless once again; of not being accepted, of being rejected, of being negated and ignored. Neglected. Of being seen with disgusted eyes. Of being casted away and abandoned.

 _But Tachikawa-san won’t do that!_ A voice that sounds like his own insists. _He has seen you in your lowest and he stays. He doesn’t condemn you, he still believes in your strength,_ the voice says again.

Yes, it’s true, Arashiyama realizes. Tachikawa has seen him when he was crippled by guilt. Tachikawa had held him, who’s breaking at the seams, together. Tachikawa had told him that he’s strong. Tachikawa had helped him, had heard his soundless cry of help, and offered his hand. Tachikawa had , in both literal and figurative ways, _saved_ him.

He could trust this boy – soon turning man. Heck, he probably _ought_ to. He has trusted Tachikawa with his physical safety albeit he never spoke it out loud. Why not trust Tachikawa to guard the other part of him, too? The other part that is less tangible and not visible to the eyes, begging to be mended and taken care of.

Arashiyama had, unconsciously, shunted that part of his. Pretending that it doesn’t exist by shoving it to the oblivion. Faking. Acting like everything is alright and he’s not the little bit tired at all from the never ending schedules. Nobody noticed, thankfully, and Arashiyama was more than thankful.

If people picked it up, they’d probe, they’d told him to rest, and Arashiyama didn’t want that. He’s not that weak, he’s not going to fall just because of this, there’s just too many things at stake; Border’s reputation, his own, Mikado’s safety. Arashiyama has too many things on the line to stop now.

Time is fair, time does wait for no one. A day of rest sounds harmless, but in fact, it’s unforgiving. The lost time cannot be returned, and thinking of how he’d let a day go waste just because he wants to rest – just because he lets himself being weak – doesn’t sit well with him. Arashiyama has to go on regardless, even if his feet are collapsing under him, even if his heart is chipping away bit by bit every day.

But Tachikawa notices, Tachikawa had seen it and he refuses to look away. Tachikawa has chosen to acknowledge that feeble part of him, and decides the best course of action is to protect it, to keep it from deteriorating further.

That alone is a sign that Tachikawa can be trusted, not only with the well-being of Arashiyama’s body but also his mind.

The problem doesn’t lie in Tachikawa, it’s in Arashiyama. Does he have the courage to reveal himself? Is he strong enough to face the possibility of rejection?

 _“You are”_ , the familiar voice echoes again, closer to his heart than his ears. The owner of the voice is still staring intently at him, attentively watching every single shift of Arashiyama’s expression. So careful. So honest and undeniably earnest. So kind  in the same way his strength is; merciless, wanting to save Arashiyama while forcing him to tore down the wall Arashiyama had painstakingly built around himself.

That too, is so very Tachikawa Kei. No matter what stands in his way, in the end, he’d always have what he wants.

Who is Arashiyama to deny him then?

“I,” the younger boy mumbles, dropping his gaze for a split second in display of his last lingering hesitation before locking his gaze with Tachikawa again, a shy yet sure smile on his warming face. “Yes, Tachikawa-san. I would, I will-“

Arashiyama stops, because Tachikawa is smiling at him; sun-beam gold and spring bloom, heart-searing and endlessly beautiful. His breath deserts him again, but this time, the sensation is welcomed. It’s like his lungs had been emptied and refilled again with much more refreshing, crisper air. The blissful feeling of boundless affection sends his heart soaring high that for a moment, Arashiyama worries whether they’d come back at all to the carcass of his chest.

In the back of his throat, his words melt away. Speaking is futile, for Arashiyama knows no word can describe the beauty of that smile and what it’s doing to his sweltering heart. So speak he does not, but at least, answer he gives; with his own, honest, trembling smile.

Tachikawa smiles impossibly wider and when he closes his eyes, thumbs once again stroking gently on the delicate skin beneath the black-haired boy’s eyes, Arashiyama  wonders if it was possible to die from being overwhelmed by emotion. “Thank you,” he breathes out, “I promise I won’t let you down.”

 _You’d never_ , Arashiyama thinks, but his mouth is not cooperating with him at all. He only manages to choke out a wet hum of approval that he knows Tachikawa would understand.

They spend their time like that; literally pressed face to face and Tachikawa’s upper body is on top of Arashiyama, tenderly cradling each other’s faces. If there was any less pure implication behind their position, it doesn’t even cross their minds. Later, they (or rather; Arashiyama) would realize once Shinoda-san found them in this ‘compromising’ position, but it can be saved for later when the time actually comes.

Right now, all they could think of is how happy they are to be together, to be accepted. If the world wants to come and get them, it can, they’d welcome it, even. Just please, they prays at the back of their mind; _not now_. Not now.

:::

Opening up to Tachikawa is surprisingly easy.

It helps that Tachikawa is not a judgmental person in the first place. Frank and blunt – can sound a little bit inconsiderate at times – sure, but Arashiyama knows Tachikawa’s heart is in the right place.

Since Tachikawa is absolute rubbish with the latest creation of technology, messaging applications included, the fastest way to reach him is by direct meeting or by phone (Thank God, at least Tachikawa knows how to make a phone call). Out of two methods, Arashiyama prefers the traditional way; finding Tachikawa at school whenever he can.

Their year might be different but it helps him that Tachikawa’s tardiness buys him a valid excuse to visit his senior. His abysmal records – both in attendance and academic – has Shinoda-san nursing his temple in more times that Arashiyama can count. There had been countless account of agents witnessing Shinoda-san scolding his pupil about his non-so-stellar school record.

Tsukimi who used to watch after Tachikawa has gone to prestigious female high-school, leaving only Kazama-san watching him like a hawk. But after Kazama graduates, the position of Tachikawa’s ‘baby-sitter’ has gone to Arashiyama, appointed by Tachikawa’s guardian himself.

“I’m sorry, Arashiyama. I know you’re a year below him but please look after, Kei.” Shinoda-san had pleaded.

“Leave it to me, Shinoda-san!” and Arashiyama has accepted the request, both because he doesn’t have it in him to refuse Shinoda-san, especially after seeing how miserable the elder man was, and because it gives him a reason to see more of Tachikawa.

Arashiyama takes his duty to heart, at times even going as far as picking up Tachikawa on his way to school and dropping by his class before it starts to make sure Tachikawa attends (there is even time when he secretly asks Tachikawa’s teacher to contact him in case Tachikawa is missing from class, or falling asleep).

He’d nag, too, of course. Reminding Tachikawa about his homework whenever he got the chance to, be it in Border, or when they’re walking together to school like this; Arashiyama dragging a half-sleepy Tachikawa behind.

“You’re worse than Kazama-san,” the older boy moans, rubbing his still groggy eyes.

Arashiyama ignores the slighting comment, and beams, “I shall take it as compliments!”

Tachikawa groans louder, “I can’t even choose who’s worse between you and Ren.”

“Well, that should be me, isn’t it? It’d be rude of me to let a beautiful girl as Tsukimi-kun to be associated with such status.”

“Now that I think about it, you two are the same. Kazama-san is way better, he doesn’t nag as much as you two do. I want Kazama-san!” Tachikawa continues bemoaning his fate, much to Arashiyama’s amusement.

He doesn’t hate this Tachikawa – this Tachikawa who’s far out cry from the persona he portrays in battlefield. Rather, he likes it. There’s something comforting from how virtually helpless Tachikawa is when he’s removed from his trigger. He can barely function alone without anyone watching over him, and to be in the position to support someone who’s notorious to be one of the strongest, boosts Arashiyama’s confidence.

He likes to believe that this is Tachikawa’s way of making Arashiyama ‘lean on him’; by depending on Arashiyama and makes the younger see that he’s not as useless as he ought to think whenever his stress starts to creep in. Of course he also helps Arashiyama by listening to his problem, but an ear to listen to is not something that only Tachikawa is capable to do. This dependency though, it’s exclusively his.

Border’s duty is demanding as always. Addition of Mitsuru and Ken to the team doesn’t exactly make it any easier. More so after Kakizaki decided to leave. With Kakizaki, Arashiyama still had someone he could turn to, being the same age and all. But now after he’s gone, he’s back to being the team’s only moral support.

Ken and Mitsuru are still young; their hearts still need a lot of supporting. Arashiyama had experienced himself how he had caved under the pressure of being Representative of Border, he cannot afford to let his team mate undergo the same things. Back then, the one who had ‘saved’ him was Tachikawa, and now, Arashiyama would want to be that ‘Tachikawa’ to Ken and Mitsuru.

Of course he has no intention of being _this_ Tachikawa, Arashiyama muses, stealing a glance at the older boy walking sluggishly behind him, he’d be Ken and Mitsuru’s support in academics, too.

Apparently noticing the look he’s receiving, Tachikawa blurts, “what?”

“Nothing,” Arashiyama shakes his head but still looking at Tachikawa, an amused smile creeping to his face.

“Nonsense, that’s not _nothing_. Do you think I don’t know you?” He presses on.

 _Ah, this again with ‘do you think I don’t know you thing_ ’, Arashiyama mentally groans.

Tachikawa has been pulling this card a lot. He’d always use it whenever he senses Arashiyama’s distress but the younger adamantly refuses to admit it. Of course those words worked successfully in making Arashiyama spill whatever he had in mind since Arashiyama is easily guilt-tripped by whatever Tachikawa throws his way. Albeit the biggest reason is because he trusts Tachikawa not to see him any less regardless of what Arashiyama tells him.

If they’re being used at such condition, Arashiyama could understand, but when they’re starting to make appearance at trivial conversation like this, he’s not sure whether he likes it or not. If he has to be completely honest, he probably _hates_ how helpless he is when it comes to those words. This is why Tachikawa is unfair, giving an illusion that Arashiyama has the upper hand over him when the fact he has Arashiyama dancing on his palm.

The corners of Tachikawa’s lips go upward, “well?”

“You’re so unfair,” Arashiyama pouts, “it’s nothing important. You don’t have to use that card.”

“What card?” Tachikawa raises an amused brow. He tries to feign oblivious but Arashiyama knows better.

“You know it, too. _Do you think I don’t know you?_ ”

Tachikawa’s laugh is clear, like wind-chime in summe. He laughs so hard that his head is tossed back, exposing his throat to Arashiyama. He doesn’t button the top three buttons of his _gakuran_ and shirt. Arashiyama finds himself staring, wondering whether Tachikawa would let him fix them or not. “If it’s not that important, then there should be no problem with telling me, isn’t it?”

 _I suppose so_ , Arashiyama agrees. Eventually, he gives in. “I just, I’m thinking that I want to be like you, but not like _you_ ,” he emphasizes on the last word.

Tachikawa tilts his head, this time genuinely confused. “What?”

“I mean, with Kakizaki gone, I’m now the eldest in team, right? I have to support Ken and Mitsuru. I don’t want them to fall into pit of anxiety like me. Thankfully, I had you. So I was thinking that I should be like you, a senior who can support his junior. But well, Tachikawa-san is useless outside of Border, right? That’s the _you_ that I don’t want to be like.”

Tachikawa gives him a withering look. “You know that this ‘useless’ Tachikawa-san is a human and thus he’s capable of feeling hurt, right?”

“See, that’s why I said it’s not important,” Arashiyama grins cheekily.

“This brat!” Tachikawa lunges forward, all traces of sleep is completely gone as he grabs Arashiyama’s head and starts messing with his hair.

“Ah! Wait- Tachikawa-san! Do you know how hard it is to style my- Tachikawa-san!” he groans, trying to stop Tachikawa from ruining his immaculately styled hair further. Soon, laughter starts bubbling in his chest, and he eventually relents, letting it spill from his mouth, Tachikawa’s own gleeful laughter following.

When he’s dealing with Tachikawa’s antics like this, he can forget about the assault-riffles he slings across his shoulder once he chooses to wear that red jacket. He doesn’t have to think about Border, doesn’t have to concern himself with being the Face of Border, doesn’t have to worry about Neighbor either.

When they’re like this, they are just Tachikawa Kei and Arashiyama Jun, eighteen and nineteen respectively. Average high school students who fool around each other on their way to school together.

“We’re going to be late, Tachikawa-san,” he chides, detangling Tachikawa’s hand from his hair with much effort, slipping in some authority back to his voice.

Tachikawa chuckles, and Arashiyama feels his stomach fluttering at the boyish grin on Tachikawa’s face. But it’s nothing compared to when Tachikawa suddenly circles his wrist, pulling him until their shoulders are knocking together.

He bows down then, curly bangs falling all over his own eyes and tickling Arashiyama’s forehead. The ever so enigmatic eyes are looking down at him, shining brightly as they lock Arashiyama in place.

With that silky, deep-baritone voice of his, Tachikawa says, “you are a good senior already, trust me.”

Had Tachikawa not turn away so quickly, he’d see how Arashiyama’s face blooms into brilliant color of scarlet. But he has averted his eyes, facing forward, so he doesn’t notice any of that.

Arashiyama wonders if the sudden escalate of his heartbeat and the warmth that starts enveloping him is because of Tachikawa’s approval of his quality or something else.

If he was forced to explain, he’d insist it’s not the latter.

:::

Arashiyama cries like a babe fresh out of his mother’s womb during Tachikawa’s graduation. It’s unsightly, his face and tears are all over his face. Netsuki-san would faint if he saw his dear, precious Face of Border like this. Arashiyama cannot help it, after all, he’s just so happy.

He remembers people who jeered and mocked Tachikawa, saying he wouldn’t be able to graduate high-school, but look at where he is now? Graduating (Arashiyama has wisely decided to ignore Tachikawa’s report card altogether), and is attending university in a month. He wants to drag those people by the back of their collar and shovesTachikawa’s letter of acceptance right in their nasty faces.

“Look at you, so ugly,” despite his rude remark, the way Tachikawa ruffles his hair is anything but such. Tender as always.

Arashiyama finds himself crying harder at realizing he has to bear a year without _this_ (a logical part of him tells him he can still meet Tachikawa at Border. Illogical part of him tells that _heartless_ part of him to shut up).  “I don’t care. You graduated high-school,” he sobs. “I’m so happy I could burst into streamers and confetti right now.”

“Not into _mochi_?” Tachikawa teases him further, grinning ear to ear and Arashiyama knows him _that_ well to tell he actually pictures Arashiyama bursting into white, sticky rice cakes.

“No,” the black haired boy giggles through his tears, hitting Tachikawa playfully on the chest. “Not even if you pay me for it.”

Tachikawa laughs, tossing his head back and exposing his neck. There are faint stubbles growing on his chin. Arashiyama’s fingers twitching with the sudden need to find out how they feel against his skin. “Well, that’s a shame,” Tachikawa groans jokingly. His hand slinks down from Arashiyama’s hair to his face, thumb rubbing on the wet track of tears. “Now, could you please stop crying because those girls keep on shooting death glare at me.”

  _Girls? What girls?_ Tachikawa inclines his head to the right, and indeed, when Arashiyama trails his gaze to that direction, there are group of girls who are glaring at Tachikawa with razor-like sharpness. He frowns, “who?”

“Eh, how should I know. Your fans? Anyways, I guess at this rate even Tokieda would glare at me the similar way if he knew I made you cry,” Tachikawa shrugs with troubled expression on his face.

Arashiyama’s frown deepens. “Mitsuru won’t. He knows I’m not crying because you hurt me or anything.”

“The bottom line is still I’m making you cry,” Tachikawa insists. “Even if Tokieda understands, those girls, they won’t. So, stop crying, okay? This should be a happy day, I’d rather see you smiling than crying like this.”

He sniffs. He doesn’t give a damn or two about those girls, but he cares about Tachikawa’s opinion. And if his smile is what Tachikawa wants, then who is Arashiyama to deny him. “Fine,” he sighs, rubbing tears away from his eyes. With a deep breathe, Arashiyama composes himself, and when he raises his face, it’s a huge, albeit teary, smile that decorates his feature. “Better?”

Tachikawa beams like sunshine, he squishes Arashiyama’s cheeks with his big, big, endlessly warm hands that sends Arashiyama’s stomach fluttering with thousands of butterfly. “Much better!”

Arashiyama laughs wetly. He timidly clutches on Tachikawa’s elbows with quivering fingers. If he assesses the situation later on with calm, collected mind, he’d realize how unnaturally intimate their positions are. People are probably giving them weird look, but those onlookers are the last thing in Arashiyama’s mind.

“Well, I guess I deserve my congratulation now?” How could he think of anything else when he has Tachikawa this close, this pleased and high-spirited, grinning down on him with eyes twinkling like Arashiyama is the best thing he has ever seen on earth.

Mirroring the elder’s bright expression, Arashiyama leans a littler forward. Tachikawa’s breath tickles the top of his reddened nose. The crispy wind of early spring blows, sending pink-almost-white petals flutter down, catching on the elder’s tuff of fluffy dark-brown hair. The palms tenderly cradling his face are warm, and just as warm, is Arashiyama’s heart. “Congratulation, Tachikawa-san!”

Desperately, Arashiyama shoves the thought of their brief separation to the furthest back of his mind.

:::

School year without Tachikawa Kei is not only incredibly boring, but also incredibly lonely.

Arashiyama distracts himself with his duties; as Border agent and as high-school student with university entrance exam looming over him. Even though he technically doesn’t have to worry about it since his entry is pretty much guaranteed by Border, as a perfectionist, Arashiyama still feels compelled to graduate with top marks.

Unlike him, Jin has decided not to pursue higher education.

“There’s too many things for me to do,” Jin says wistfully, balancing an open book between his lap.

If there was anyone else, Arashiyama would chide him for sitting Indian-style in class (“Your shoes are not dirty, think of the janitors who clean the chair!”), but everyone have been gone for longer than an hour ago, now it’s only the two of them, catching up with their study that they missed for defense duty.

“Border would be troubled if I was away any longer, at least for now. Ahh, really, those adults cannot do anything without me,” Jin laughs, but despite the teasing in his words, there is only fondness in his tone, thick as honey as they drip from his startling-blue eyes.

Arashiyama concedes with his own laugh. He keeps his eyes on Jin then, who is looking outside the sinking orange sky. His best-friend, his buddy with side-effect that enables him to see the future and in that respect, maybe had made him even more mature than his actual age.

He supposes Jin’s choice is given, something he should not be surprised about. True, Border needs Jin, but now more than ever. More agents are coming, more gates are opening, more Trion Soldier, and more plan to develop their technology. Expedition, Arashiyama had heard about it. It is something that they must keep away from public, for now at least, until Border themselves are sure that this expedition could benefit them more than the resources they had spent for its sake.

Jin’s choice is logical, but it doesn’t stop Arashiyama for thinking that it is sad that Jin has to sacrifice his own ‘future’ for the sake of many more people. And it is one these moments that reminds Arashiyama of how much stronger Jin is compared to him, of how much heavier the burden that Jin has to shoulder. When Arashiyama feels like complaining, he’d always remember this, that his best-friend who is almost like a mirror image of his own in term of physique, carry an even greater weight with him and yet he never once bemoan about his responsibility.

Arashiyama’s melancholic thought is disrupted when Jin shifts his gaze to his, smirking bemusedly, and says, “well, good for you then. You could have Tachikawa-san all for yourself.”

At that, Arashiyama blinks, stunted, “what?”

“If I wasn’t there, you could have all Tachikawa-san’s attention for yourself, good isn’t it? I mean, no me who distracts him with thoughts of battle, battle, and battle,” his tone doesn’t deny the mischief that sparkles in his blue-eyes.

“I- what?” Arashiyama repeats his earlier question once again, genuinely confused. He can see his own puzzled expression reflected in Jin’s flickering eyes, he must sounds as dumb as he looks like.

“Seriously, Arashiyama, sometimes I forget how dense you can be,” Jin chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “You really don’t realize, do you?”

“Realize what?” Arashiyama questions back, now frowning, and to be honest, a little affronted. Nobody has ever said he is dense before, rather the opposite actually, they always said he is attentive and smart. “You got me completely lost there. What don’t I realize and why- what made you think I’d be happy to not have you around and,” he falters, recalling Jin’s exact wording, “have Tachikawa-san all for myself?”

Jin’s smirks softens into a smile, less teasing and more indulgent, reminding Arashiyama of his mother when she caught Arashiyama wetting his bed at the age of seven. “Well, aren’t you?”

Arashiyama’s frown deepens, “what?”

“Aren’t you happy you got to spend more time with Tachikawa-san without anyone distracting his attention away from you?”

Arashiyama opens his mouth, is about to speak, but then his mind recites Jin’s question, and this time, in his own voice, asks him; _aren’t you?_

Words die before they can reach his tongue. Arashiyama’s jaw snaps shut. Jin smiles at him, with knowledge of someone who has seen the future. Or maybe not, maybe Jin is looking at him like that for reason as simple as being Arashiyama’s friend.

“Trust me, I don’t need my side-effect to know,” Jin drops his gaze to the book on his lap, fingering the dog-eared page.

He is not really reading it when Arashiyama knows well he should (they have chem test tomorrow), but Arashiyama doesn’t make any comment about it, Arashiyama doesn’t say anything about it.

Upon them, silence falls like the sun outside. And together, Arashiyama feels himself sinking into Jin’s question.

:::

It takes a year and a couple of months until Arashiyama finds the answer to the question Jin had popped in, and realized what Jin had alluded with that.

It takes Arashiyama entering the campus cafeteria, two weeks since his first semester in university started, with excited giggles and murmurs of his name surrounding him.

It takes Tachikawa, surrounded by girls, some with bosom bigger that Tachikawa’s own operator, some as pretty as Arashiyama’s own, and some as beautiful as Tachikawa’s childhood friend although obviously lacking the air of elegance that Tsukimi surrounds herself with like an expensive, velvet cloak.

It takes one of them literally sandwiching Tachikawa’s left arm between her breasts and arms, and Tachikawa’s another hand atop the other girl’s head, ruffling her silky and meticulously arranged hair in a manner that Arashiyama thought is reserved only for, well; _him_.

It takes that scene, and realization that Tachikawa actually has a life outside Border - away from him that he is not privy of; away from him that he is not included in, away from him, _none of his concern_ \- has something inside Arashiyama snaps.

He strides in, back pulled straight and shoulders taut as bowstring, everything falls into hushed silence as the rush of his adrenaline fills his ears, drumming, and something else follows. Mocking, jeering, replacing his blood with ice with every taunting whisper of; _he doesn’t need you, he doesn’t need you, he doesn’t need you, he doesn’t need you, he doesn’t need-_

“Tachikawa-san,” Arashiyama smiles, his head screams _fake it until you mean it, it’s okay, you’ve done this before. He is not going away, he is not leaving you, they can’t- if you smile they won’t know, you can’t lose him, smile, they can’t know, they must not know, if they know- he wouldn’t-_

But it’s Tachikawa who moves first, detangling himself from the soft fingers and bodies with a grace that Arashiyama has seen him fight with in battlefield. Fluid like air, yet hurry like lightning, and there’s a slight edge in it that tells Arashiyama the elder boy is warry.

 _Of what?_ Arashiyama muses absent-mindedly, but when Tachikawa’s fingers are on his shoulders and pewter-colored eyes are on his green ones, Arashiyama understands.

“Are you okay?” Tachikawa asks, voice not denying the concern that clouds his eyes. Arashiyama takes a shuddering breath, reveling in the feel of Tachikawa’s warmth seeping through the fabric of his jacket, imagining that heat to flood in his veins, fusing itself in, injecting warmth to Arashiyama’s frosty blood.

“I-” he blinks. Around them, the girls who had surrounded Tachikawa squealed, some other started whispering, curious and interested at seeing The infamous Face of Border interacting with the guy who apparently has already been famous for his tardiness.

Arashiyama thinks then, of his reaction, of the way his stomach had churned and twisted horrible at the sight of Tachikawa being surrounded by girls. Of how painful it is when he saw Tachikawa’s kindness, the one he has been relying on to and believes exists exclusively for him to alleviate him from fear he cannot disclose to anyone but Tachikawa, is directed to someone else other than himself.

Or maybe it’s more of how anxiety had sunk their claws so deep into him when he realized there might be a part of Tachikawa’s life where he doesn’t belong. He knows Tachikawa is kind, he had seen Tachikawa treating the younger agents with same tenderness he had treated Arashiyama with, but it never affected him this much.

Maybe it is, or rather; it is. To know that Tachikawa’s life actually doesn’t revolve around Border (around _him_ ), to know that Tachikawa’s life actually expands further than Border (further than _him_ ). To know there’s a part of Tachikawa that Border doesn’t know of (that _he_ doesn’t know).

To be faced with reality that he might not be that focal to Tachikawa as much as Tachikawa is to him.

Back in high-school, Arashiyama had rarely seen Tachikawa surrounded himself with anyone other than him, Jin, and other Border agents. It’s not that Tachikawa had been anti-social, he had other friends of course, but ever since Border, his life had shifted.

Tachikawa loves battlefield, Tachikawa takes pleasure to be in the middle of carnage, to be in condition where he’s not allowed to let his defense down, to always be in alert, and ready. Tachikawa loves Border, and it’s only with fellow agents he could associate himself with - or rather; it’s only with fellow agents who share his enthusiasm and walk on the same path he has chosen, he’s interested to associate himself with.

Arashiyama had thought that’s how it’d always be, apparently had foolishly believed so. But clearly, he was wrong. Clearly, high-school is different than university. Clearly, there are less active agents who’s willing to humor - or as Kazama put it; deal with - Tachikawa like Jin and Arashiyama had back in high-school.

There’s Ninomiya, but he’s in different major and different campus ground. There’s Kazama, Kizaki, and Suwa, but they’re on different year and third years are busier than second with seminar’s preparation and all. Arashiyama can imagine that’s how exactly Tachikawa has ended up with people who’s not involved with Border at all, because Tachikawa is just human after all, and human is social creature.

He supposes he should be happy - heck, Shinoda-san would, he would be happy, so proud of his pupil _finally_ having social life outside Border; finally having a semblance of ‘normal’ life.

And shouldn’t Arashiyama be happy, too? Shouldn’t Arashiyama - who often time finds himself sharing Shinoda’s concern over Tachikawa’s lack of capability when it comes to his life outside Border - be happy that Tachikawa has someone to look after him when the other Border agents are not available?

Shouldn’t he?

“Arashiyama?” Tachikawa shakes him lightly, brows furring in concern under his thick, curly bangs.

_“Aren’t you happy you got to spend more time with Tachikawa-san without anyone distracting his attention away from you?”_

And then everything pieces up together, clicking and snapping as the right parts slot into each other, closing all gaps and opened cracks. It’s like a thick cloud of mist has been lifted, bestowed upon his view is clarity, reflected on his lenses sharper than anything is one person, the one and only.

Another shake, gentle yet firm, reassuring. Anchor to the ground. Arashiyama blinks rapidly, eyes immediately meeting Tachikawa’s inquiring ones, “I- sorry, I felt light-headed for a moment. Sorry.”

Arashiyama wouldn’t admit, not in million years, that he momentarily lost himself out of jealousy. No, not ever. No even if it costs him his life. It’s too embarrassing, not to mention too petty for someone who shoulders the title of ‘The Face of Border”. Too childish for an eighteen years old boy who practically carries assault rifle every day for living.

“It’s nothing to worry about, really,” he shakes his head dismissively, grinning and hopes Tachikawa buys his bald-faced lie, except that _this is_ Tachikawa and he reads Arashiyama like open book; a privilege Arashiyama has voluntarily gave him.

“You haven’t eaten well, have you?” Tachikawa still has his grip around his shoulder but no longer as tight as before, though still as warm. Arashiyama shudders at the thought of losing that comforting heat, but Tachikawa apparently takes it as something else. “Okay, tell me what you want to eat,” he says – _commands_ – voice stern.

Arashiyama shudders again but for entirely different _reasons_ this time; one at the demanding tone in Tachikawa’s voice, and two at his arm that moves fluidly across Arashiyama’s shoulder as he pulls him into a one-armed hug, pressing their sides together. _They contrast_ , Arashiyama thinks, letting Tachikawa drags him, _his voice and his touch_ ; black against white, but then he supposes it shouldn’t be something new for there’s always kindness in Tachikawa’s strength.

“Arashiyama?” Tachikawa calls once again, and if Arashiyama isn’t distracted by how he’s suddenly growing so conscious of how close Tachikawa’s face is to his and how there’s practically zero distance between them, he would have hear the worry that paints Tachikawa’s voice in bleak color of grey.

“Yes?” he answers, still preoccupied with; _Tachikawa-san smells like citrus, and wood? I wonder what perfume he wears_.

“I’m asking you what you want to eat?” he repeats his question, stopping by the end of line of cafeteria. People are giving them their utmost attention, non-so-discreet whisper falling around the hall like a flood, but all Arashiyama can focus on is the clean and refreshing scent that his senior emanates, and how he can practically feel the way his body hums whenever he speaks.

“Umm,” Arashiyama stutters.

Quickly, he glances at the glass shelf that showcases available food for the day. They all look promising, but none of them interests him as much as; a) Tachikawa, and b) his recent epiphany.

The line is moving before them in slow pace, giving Arashiyama the luxury of time to choose. Tachikawa is still pressed against him, flush, waking up all parts that made up Arashiyama’s being that he didn’t know existed before; that he didn’t know could react to Tachikawa Kei _this_ way.

“Well?” Tachikawa doesn’t sound impatient, if anything, he sounds even worried. Arashiyama scrambles to form a proper sentence.

“ _Udon_ ,” he says hastily, grinning. “I feel like eating some right now.”

Tachikawa beams at the mention of one of his favorite food, his lips slip back to reveal a row of white teeth - slightly uneven, but it’s okay, it’s cute, Arashiyama thinks - , his eyes shine on Arashiyama as they reflect the younger’s face. “Nice choice!”

Arashiyama feels his grin becoming a little bit more genuine, his steps becoming lighter, his heart soars higher. The hand on his shoulder steers him forward, the owner prattling on about how delicious the campus’ _udon_ is. He listens intently, pouring all his attention to Tachikawa’s deep and fuzzy voice, clinging to every single vowels and syllables, holding onto each and every word.

His heart beats and he imagines they beat in sync with Tachikawa’s. If he gets a little bit closer, would he be able to hear it? Would he be able to make sure that his and Tachikawa’s hearts are beating together, creating the most beautiful symphony of life?

“- don’t you think so?” Tachikawa asks, voice dripping with utter delight that bounces inside the caves of Arashiyama’s ears, rapping softly on his ear drums, reverberates as it sinks into his bones.

“Yes,” Arashiyama answers even though he didn’t really catch the question. Tachikawa grins, wider, drawing crescent with his lips. Arashiyama’s heart stutters.

Tachikawa makes their order; he even goes as far as paying despite Arashiyama’s insistence. Arashiyama half-expected Tachikawa to return to his previous seat but much to his surprise (and relief), he goes to entirely different seat, the first empty two-seater they spot.

Arashiyama doesn’t think of the girls anymore, doesn’t think about the ugly green jealousy that had captivated him earlier either. For now, as he watches and listens to Tachikawa talking animatedly before him, he doesn’t want to think about anything else.

:::

Then, Arashiyama thinks about his feeling for Tachikawa Kei, hard.

Arashiyama thinks about it so hard, harder than he thinks about his assignment or his strategy.

Arashiyama thinks about it so hard, that he finds the thought actually keeps him from sleeping.

Arashiyama thinks about it so hard, that one morning, he wakes up with faint trace of grey bags under his eyes, and hair refusing to be brushed back into its usual unruliness.

Arashiyama thinks about it, but when he sees Tachikawa hangs his mouth open at Arashiyama’s less than presentable state (Kazama blurring away in the background as Arashiyama’s focus shift to no one but Tachikawa), and comes in whirlwind of worry and concern, flurry of tender and caring hands as he fusses over the younger boy, Arashiyama shuts down that noisy thoughts all together.

:::

Even though a certain part of his brain has been screaming incessantly; _the press and Netsuki-san must not know about this!_ A strange sense of calmness has fallen over him after he accepted the simple and blatant fact of his affection toward Tachikawa.

The first thing he wants to do after is to _talk_ to someone, anybody, but he’s not sure if this is a topic that he should bring to his family – not that he fears his family won’t be accepting – but this, _this_ whole thing about falling in love is an entirely new thing for him. Arashiyama fancies a girl or two in the past, but it never developed into a crush even.

But now he’s propelling head-first straight into love, to a fellow man as well. Not exactly something Arashiyama pictured his first love would be.

Now that he thinks about it, yes, Tachikawa Kei is indeed his first love. Not the type of person he expected he’d fall for either, but he assumes a guy who can barely remember how to turn on a laptop in spite of how many times he’s been demonstrated, is better than a guy who-

 _Okay_ , that’s actually really a bad example.

Though he only exhibits it when he dons his armor, nobody can deny Tachikawa’s charisma as a leader. In combat, his presence is reassuring, inspiring people with every slash of his blade that they’d gain victory again and Tachikawa won’t let them fall.

That trait of him might not transfer well once he dismantle his Trion Body, but, Tachikawa’s lack of ability to function properly outside of battlefield aside, he has redeeming qualities in him just like any other person. For example, he is kind, and if anyone dares to say otherwise, Arashiyama is willing to fight teeth and nails to prove them otherwise.

He has been pampered by that kindness so many times before to believe Tachikawa can be anything but such. He assumes that is the main reason why he is attracted to Tachikawa in the first place. Tachikawa indulges him who has always been in the position of spoiling instead of being spoiled (though from other people’s perspective it’s the other way around. It’s okay, it’s only because they don’t get Tachikawa and Arashiyama).

_“Aren’t you happy you got to spend more time with Tachikawa-san without anyone distracting his attention away from you?”_

_Yes, I am_ , Arashiyama finds himself screaming the answer on the top of his lungs. In his head of course. He is happy. He likes – _loves_ even – to have Tachikawa’s attention all for himself. And he desperately needs to let it out, less to sort out his thoughts, but more to further validate his feelings.

And to find out what he should do, because Arashiyama is as clueless as a camel that found itself on the north-pole.

With his family ruled out from the list, Arashiyama is left only with a small number of people, but amongst them, it’s almost obvious – or _maybe_ it’s been obvious since the first place – who he should talk to.

Who’s better fit than the guy who ignited his epiphany, really?

So, Arashiyama calls Jin, and thanks all deities – even the one he doesn’t know might even exist – when Jin promises him he’ll be there by the Headquarter, “give me twenty mins. And, oh, sit at the corner, my side effect told me it’s the best place to talk.”

He does show up twenty minutes later, clad in his trade-mark blue jacket, and two cans of coffee in his hand. “I’ll take the latte,” Arashiyama answers before Jin asks. The brunette grins and put the milky brown can on the table, right beside Arashiyama’s opened laptop.

Time reads seventeen fifty, and the cafeteria is full with young agents, chattering happily about their new school and ‘that new TV show with cute presenter’ over their meal. Arashiyama is working on a report he’s due to submit by twenty, so far, he’s more than half-way done, just add a little detail about Ken assisting Kitora in taking down the last Bamster and he’s done.

The seat he has chosen is located at the furthest corner right by the window. Spring afternoon sun cast a gentle beam over the table, permeating warmth into Arashiyama’s moving fingers. Jin sits across of him, he opens his can of coffee and offers opening Arashiyama’s own which the black-haired boy accepts with apologetic smile, “thank you. Sorry, just a little more and I’m done.”

Jin pulls the silver tab with ease, grinning, “it’s okay, take your time. I have some text to send as well.”

The two spends companionable silence finishing their own business; Arashiyama focused in his report and Jin in texting whomever he has to text. No more than ten minutes later finds Arashiyama sipping on his cold coffee, leaning back to his seat with relaxed shoulder.

“So, you finally realized,” the brunette starts with a smirk after he pockets his phone in his jacket.

Arashiyama grins sheepishly, cheeks blossoming scarlet. “You _knew_ , don’t you?”

“Eehh, cannot say I didn’t see it coming. I did _warn_ you, after all, did I?” Jin takes a sip of his own coffee, still not breaking the teasing smirk. “I have to admit I didn’t think it’d be this fast. You two are not exactly subtle, but not obvious either. Adding to the fact that you both are actually as dense as brick, I thought it’d take longer.”

“Dense as?” Arashiyama splutters.

“Brick, literal brick,” Jin repeats, not minding his friend’s flustered state one bit. He leans on the table, shoulders hunching forward, and looking at Arashiyama with might be the biggest shit-eating-grin Jin has ever wear on his face, blue eyes dancing with mirth. “You should take a look at yourself now in the mirror, Arashiyama, I can almost miss you for one.”

He doesn’t need to, no, thank you. With how heated he feels right now, Arashiyama can only imagine how he looks like. Coupled with his own team’s red jacket, he can easily understand where Jin is coming from. He can stand by a brick wall, and if it wasn’t for his feathery-black hair, he got himself a good camouflage. “We-well, I guess, I suppose I – _we_ are not obvious. It is good, then?”

“Depends, whether it’s good or not,” Jin waggles his finger, raising one brow with crooked smirk. “And just for your information, only I and Kazama-san pick up your adorable crush at Tachikawa-san. Hero Arashiyama and the almost-good-for-nothing Tachikawa-san is not exactly a picture that ever cross anyone’s mind. If there was even a picture of you two as a pair at all, then it’s of a nanny and five years old boy.”

“Na-“

Jin ignores him and continues barreling on like a speeding train, “anyways, back to whether it’s good or not, it depends on what you want to do after this.” Pointing his waggled finger to Arashiyama’s flushed nose, the brunette asks, “what, is it that you want, Arashiyama Jun?”

He blinks at his best friend, perplexed. Arashiyama directs the question to himself; _what do I want?_

It should be clear already, should be easy. He always knows what he wants, right? To protect his family, to keep Mikado and its citizen safe, to defend his team mates and fellow agents. To be stronger, to be dependable, to be someone who can bring smile to other people’s face.

But that’s what Arashiyama wants _himself_ to be. What does he want to be _with_ Tachikawa?

Obviously not just a senior and junior, his recent spark of jealousy is enough proof already. What he wants to be with Tachikawa is probably not something he needs to mull over, the answer is obvious already, if not, he wouldn’t be able to admit his feeling in the first place.

But admitting his feeling and admitting how he is going to act on it are two entirely different things.

Arashiyama can stop there, then does nothing about it. He’ll continue carrying that affection in his heart without even letting anyone know. But is that what he wants?

“What I want,” Arashiyama mutters, casting his gaze down at the black keyboard of his laptop. “If I said ‘I don’t know’, I’d be lying.”

“You know that much,” Jin approves with a nod. “When you like someone, the most natural thing you’d want to do is to be with that person.”

“To be with him more than I already am,” the black-haired boy muses wistfully. “To be even close. To know more about him. To be even more special. To be-“

Smirk dwindling down into an understanding, serene smile, Jin concludes, blue eyes locking with Arashiyama’s forest-green ones. “You want to be his lover.”

“Tachikawa-san’s lover…” Arashiyama sighs quietly, testing how the world rolled on his tongue. “That’s- yeah, maybe that’s what I want, but,” he falters, smiling bitterly at himself. “I’m not sure if I can do it. I’m not sure if I’m _allowed_ to do it.”

Solemn air drapes itself all over them, bringing back silence that had excused itself when Jin arrived back to the table. Both of them fully understand the repercussion that might have come if Arashiyama decided to pursue any relationship at all – especially romantic one – with just anyone. It doesn’t have to be Tachikawa, it can be any girl, and they have little doubt Netsuki-san would go the hell and back just to stop it from happening.

The media would have a lot of fun with it. Pro-Border media will spin a romantic tale, most likely ones that include Arashiyama saving his love-interest from Neighbor’s attack before falling in love with her. The opposing media will brew rumor about Arashiyama’s illicit affair and how he neglects his duty in favor of spending time with his lover.

Just thinking of how the press would react if they know Arashiyama Jun has a girlfriend, even if one side is supposed to be supportive, is enough to give Arashiyama a headache. If they know Arashiyama’s lover is a boyfriend, he doesn’t even dare imagining the scale of said headache.

He can, though, imagine Shinoda-san summoning him and Tachikawa in place of Netsuki-san (who will surely pass out from utter shock). He doesn’t think Shinoda-san would disapprove the relationship, but he knows he would not approve of it, _for now._

Romantic relationship in Border is not dissuaded, but it’s not exactly encouraged either. In the same fashion school worries dating will distract students from their studies; Border prefers such relationship between agents to be minimized. They might be adolescent boys and girls, but they’re standing in the forefront of war. Love is not really an emotion that belongs in Border just like how it doesn’t belong in any other battlefield.

Shinoda-san will probably tell them to pursue it once everything is over, once they have regained their long-deserved peace. He’d smile; understanding and kind. Lonely, in a way father would when they realize their little child has grown himself a pair of wings that could take them to see the world without his help. Regrettable, because he has to deny the happiness his child wanted in the face of the consequence.

Arashiyama supposes he’s imagining too far already, he doesn’t even sure if Tachikawa returns his feeling yet he has assumed he would find himself standing in front of his commanding officer with Tachikawa, hand in hand.

“Oh My God, can you believe what I was thinking?” Arashiyama chuckles self-mockingly.

“What? What? Skipping forward to the wedding?” Jin ‘s cackle swats away the cloak of somberness that had fallen over them.

The cloud rolls on the dawning sky, the light shifts, and the way it falls over Jin’s feature accentuates the sharpness of his jaw, yet the wide grin on his face maintains his youthfulness. For a moment, Arashiyama is struck at how they have aged. It’s been four years since he met Jin and even though Jin has always had this air of maturity in him, it’s further highlighted by the change in his physique.

Has Arashiyama changed, too, in the course of four years? Has he matured out of the weak shell called his young self into a dependable young man? Has he grown stronger? Strong enough to face the repercussion his feeling might bring to him?

“What does your side-effect said about this?” he finds himself asking, once again returning his gaze to his best friend’s.

Jin smiles that peculiar smile of his. That smile he’d put on his face whenever people inquires him about what his side-effect predicts. A decorated armament, prepared to make other person believe in whatever he is about to say. 4 years, and Arashiyama still doesn’t know how to sees through that, in the end, he has no way to know whatever Jin’s ‘warning’ is what his side-effect told him or what he wants people to believe his side-effect did.

The brunette stares at him with twinkling blue eyes mutely. Almost a minute passed, and the lack of word makes Arashiyama feels queasy in his shoes. “Well?” He prompts, worrying his lips. “What?”

Jin lets his gaze drop to the table, fingerpicking on the pull-tab of his coffee. His smile has softened around the edge and it makes Arashiyama’s stomach flutters with nervousness. If Jin doesn’t speak any faster, he might start pulling his hair in frustration.

Jin finishes his coffee in one, long gulp. Arashiyama watches him restlessly, his own canned-drink long forgotten. His eyes follow Jin’s every movement; from the way he fingers curl around the can, to the way he tilts his head slightly aside at the same time he puts the empty can on the table. Brilliant blue eyes shine, seemingly wanting to convey something but cannot because the owner forbids them to. “Jin,” Arashiyama presses again.

“Whatever I’m about to say,” Jin _finally_ ends his long silence. Arashiyama unconsciously leans forward; ears open to catch every single word that’s about to spill out from Jin’s mouth. “…promise me…”

Around them, the rest of the world falls into hushed whisper. The cloud has shifted once again; sky slowly turns pinkish-gold. Outside, birds flap their wings, soaring toward the opposite direction of setting sun. A group of C-class agents are giggling while stealing glances toward their seat a couple of feet away. By the counter, someone apparently has caused a scene by tripping and spilling his _ramen_ all over the floor.

Arashiyama doesn’t know any of that happening; he doesn’t want to know either. All he wants to know; all he ever wants to know-

:::

“If you’re looking for Tachikawa-san, he just got a call from Shinoda-san,” Izumi tells him with weary smile.

A-01 just had a late night, correction; _morning_ shift. It is, after all, five in the morning. Irregular gates have been rising in appearance, and they’re unforgiving. They do not wait until the city raise to open themselves, pouring an equally merciless amount of Trion Soldiers ready to haunt the still sleeping Mikado.

Hence the sudden increase of late-night mission for upper rank teams. Almost all A rank squads are tasked with late night duty. They’ve been given special permission to skip school the next day, a privileged that they gratefully receive and utilize. Arashiyama is no exception. He’s been running three days straight with only three hours of sleep each, he could use some day time to sleep instead of attending campus.

His own squad wasn’t on duty today, but he has a PR meeting to attend in an hour and after waking up to Tachikawa’s text ( _Morning shift. Don’t bother picking me up 2 campus_ ), he figures it’s better to go earlier and catch Tachikawa before he goes home to bury himself under fort of blanket.

Thus, Arashiyama found himself standing by A-01 room like so many times before. He’s not surprised when it’s Izumi who opened the door, but he is taken aback by Izumi’s disheveled appearance.

“Thank you, Izumi. Are you going home after this?” He looks at his junior worriedly. Izumi looks like he is ready to crash face-first anytime soon, letting him go home alone doesn’t sit well with Arashiyama’s conscience.

The shooter yawns before answering. “It’s okay, Arashiyama-san. I’ll just sleep in our squad’s room.”

“That’s better,” he pats Izumi’s tousled dirty-blond hair, earning himself a sleepy, contented smile in return. “Thank you for your hard works. I will let Ken know not to bother you today.”

Izumi chuckles drowsily, eyes already dropping close. “Yeah, don’t forget to tell that to _spear-idiot_ , too. Or Ninomiya-san. Midorikawa, too. Tell them I’m hibernating like bear in the winter. Do you think _spear-idiot_ would understand the reference?”

Arashiyama laughs inwardly. Clearly, Izumi is about to lose himself to sleep, so Arashiyama reassures him he would before bidding him good night and leaves A-01 room for Shinoda-san’s office.

In his way there, he suddenly doubts his decision of coming earlier. Tachikawa will obviously be as gone as Izumi, he has dealt with sleepy Tachikawa before and he always ended up manhandling the older man into a more appropriate place to doze off.

There _was_ that one time when Tachikawa ended up using his thighs on the pillow, in the gallery in front of hundreds of curious, disbelieving eyes. Arashiyama had been oblivious of his feeling back then, so he wasn’t as bothered. But now when he has fully awakened, the memory never failed to make blush creeps to his face.

_Anyways!_

Arriving at his destination, Arashiyama notices the door of Shinoda’s office is still closed. Guess Tachikawa and Shinoda are not done yet with whatever they’re talking about.

He’s weighing his option between coming back later or waiting when the door slid itself open and Tachikawa steps out, clad in dark blue hoodie and white jeans. Upon noticing Arashiyama’s presence, he blinks rapidly in astonishment, “Arashiyama?”

“Good morning!” the said boy beams, approaching Tachikawa with light, cheerful steps. Behind perplexed Tachikawa, the door slid shut. Well, he supposes he can always greet Shinoda-san later. “I come to pick you up!”

Tachikawa’s smile is less than enthusiastic, there’s a hint of tiredness on the lines of his face as well. “I hope you’re not picking me to campus, I don’t think I can stay awake for another hour, let alone attending a lecture.”

“I will pretend I don’t know about the report you has to submit tomorrow then,” Arashiyama jokes with sing-song voice. At the mention of (yet another) of his unfinished homework, Tachikawa groans loudly, slapping his face with his palms equally loud.

“Don’t- just don’t mention it, please.” His grunt is muffled, but Arashiyama doesn’t miss the drowsiness that has painted itself heavily like lead in Tachikawa’s voice.

He hopes Tachikawa doesn’t sense the concern in his own when he speaks again. Gently, he pries the hands away from Tachikawa’s face, “I’ll just tuck you in, okay? You clearly need some rest. The report can wait, the teachers would understand.”

“What do I do without you,” Tachikawa muses out gratefully.

Arashiyama keeps unaffected face with so much effort. He successfully keeps his usual grin intact as he guides the already sluggish Tachikawa back to his squad’s room. “Well, here we are.” He announces once they’ve arrived.

Turning around, Arashiyama comes face to face with dazed Tachikawa who is staring at him with an odd look. The intensity of the gaze knocks him off guard, but once again, Arashiyama applauds his self-control as he successfully schools his expression to normal. You wouldn’t be able to tell that his heart is actually running miles per second.

“Is there anything on my face?”

Instead of immediate answer, all he gets is another long, mute stare. Arashiyama feels his composure starts to falter, especially upon realizing that they have been holding hands all the way from Shinoda-san’s office to here. _God, how could he not realize??_

Growing conscious over their skin-contact by ticking minutes, Arashiyama starts attempting to detangle their hands, so he is not prepared when he feels a sharp pull at their joined hands, jerking him forward until he and Tachikawa are close enough that he can smell the signature citrus and wood.

Distantly, he thinks of how they’ve been doing this whole _face-to-face_ thing a lot. Not even lately, no, since 3 years and a half ago when Tachikawa first started breaching the sturdy wall of Arashiyama’s heart.

“Tachikawa-san?” Arashiyama asks again, a little bit breathless.

Tachikawa’s gaze is searching him, imploring. It unnerves him to the point Arashiyama has to look away, but another tug on his hand got him staring back again at Tachikawa’s dark-pewter eyes. “You…”

He pauses there, frowning. Arashiyama waits with baited breath until he continues.

“What are you- what do you have in mind?”

 _Of course_ , Arashiyama finally catches on the reason behind Tachikawa’s sudden odd curiosity. Of course Tachikawa would notice that Arashiyama has something going on in his mind even though he is not that apt in getting through Arashiyama’s head to pick up the exact issue that’s been ‘bothering’ Arashiyama.

He always thought he’s a good actor, but he forgets Tachikawa Kei can see through him like he’s a clear, transparent glass.

“It’s not,” Arashiyama murmurs, “it’s not the right time and place to discuss it.”

Frown makes itself visible on Tachikawa’s face. “Then where and when?”

Even if he just wants to, Arashiyama struggles not to avoid looking into Tachikawa’s eyes, knowing full well that not only Tachikawa would take it as rejection, but also it’d spur to worry him further. “Later after you have proper rest and we’re done with our reports and all.”

Tachikawa cringes at the topic of his unfinished task. “Not today, then?” he asks, dismayed.

 “Not today,” Arashiyama smiles apologetically. “But soon, I promise.”

“Okay, fine,” despite his resignation, Tachikawa sounds anything but. He sullenly adds, “I hate it when you keep things away from me.”

Leaning forward until their heads are touching, Arashiyama let his eyes slid shut, and breathes out, “I’m sorry.”

“Just tell me, is that why you were a mess back then?”

Arashiyama lets his mind wander back to when he spent his night without sleep to sort out his feelings. By the end of the day, he decided to stop overthinking and came clean to himself. He has feeling for Tachikawa Kei, a romantic one. However, that doesn’t mean his dilemma is over. He still had to figure out what he wants form himself and Tachikawa.

Thanks to his talk with Jin the previous day, he has finally casted the cloud of doubt away from his mind, but it doesn’t make acting on his intention any easier.

There is also that thing that Jin’s side-effect told him.

“Arashiyama?” Tachikawa’s voice, edging with concern, rattles him from his short reverie. “Are you alright?”

“I am,” he quickly replies, putting on a small yet genuine smile to calm down Tachikawa’s raising qualm. “and, that’s- yes, that was it. I had a hard time figuring it out, but now I’m fine. I promise once we’re settled down, I will tell you everything.”

Arashiyama can feel the way Tachikawa’s shoulder sag in relief, they’re that close he can feel every shift in Tachikawa’s movement. “Everything?”

“Everything,” he nods. When he continues, he doesn’t even bother hiding the quiver in his voice, “everything you want to know, Tachikawa-san.”

:::

Arashiyama has been scared a countless of time in the course of his life. He’s scared of disappointing other people, he’s scared of failure, he’s scared of letting his loved ones down, he’s scared of breaking his promise.

He’s not scared of his enemy, never his enemy. But there’s a saying that _you are your own greatest enemy_ , so maybe, Arashiyama has always been afraid of himself and his capability to screw everything single-handedly.

The thing is, he just did it. Screwed _everything_ single-handedly.

He never thought of himself as the jealous type, but one reminder of what had happened at the cafeteria is a red, bold sign-board that reads; _oh, no, don’t you dare_. And Arashiyama swears to himself, as he stomps away from the awkwardly silent gallery, leaving a dumbfounded Tachikawa and bewildered Ninomiya, it is something he will have to fix.

In the future, not now. Now he just wants to indulge his tender heart and follows what the green-eyed monster tells him.

Will you look at that, _green-eyed monster_. Ha, so fitting.

Absorbed in his own thought, Arashiyama doesn’t hear the sound of loud footsteps behind him. He doesn’t realize Tachikawa is chasing after him until the attacker got a strong and secure, yet cautious grip on his wrist. A tug, and Arashiyama’s long strides are put into a halt.

“I said; wait,” Tachikawa demands. _Demands? How dare he?_ Arashiyama finds himself fuming.

Before Tachikawa can speak further, the raven has whirled around, facing Tachikawa with the sharpest glare he could muster and smile as cold as the arctic. “I’m sorry, Tachikawa- _san_ ,” he’s all but grinds out the honorific, “I guess I was too busy worrying about how late I am to my _appointment_ with certain _someone_ to hear.”

Tachikawa cringes. Arashiyama muses, _good_ , his words must have strike home, hard. There are people, hundreds even, paying attention to their exchange, Arashiyama is aware. In the face of boiling jealousy, however, they cease into nothing more than pint-sized material that bears no significance in Arashiyama’s head.

It is uncharacteristic of him to behave this way. He’ll probably regret it later once his head has cooled down. But now? _All be damned_. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an _appointment_ to make.”

He tries to swat Tachikawa’s _offending_ hand away, but apparently, Tachikawa got an even stronger grip on his wrist, which he clutches even tighter once he caught the other’s attempt at getting away. “You don’t have appointment to make,” Tachikawa points out, “the only appointment you have today is with me.”

“Which is obviously canceled because you are going with Ninomiya-san, right?” Arashiyama retorts. “And seeing as I, unlike you, have another matter to attend, I cannot _wait until you finishes 10 rounds with Ninomiya-_ san.”

Tachikawa visibly flinches. “Ara-“

“So, could you please kindly excuse me?” He interjects again, “I have _better_ and more _important_ thing to do.”

Tachikawa’s grasp on Arashiyama loosens, but it’s not slack enough for the raven to unlatch his hand away. Heaving a loud, defeated sigh, Tachikawa pulls his junior closer instead then drops his head on his shoulder.

Arashiyama bristles, “what-“

“I’m sorry,” he declares, loud enough that people around them can hear without straining their ears. “I shouldn’t have done that. You’ve made your time for me. I’m sorry.”

Arashiyama has been scared of so many things in the course of his life, but one of the scariest things he’s facing right now is how easy he yields to Tachikawa Kei. The attacker barely has to make any effort, just by being himself with easy smile and all-too-honest words, then whatever he wants, Arashiyama can only give.

If Tachikawa wants him to speak his deep and darkest secret, Arashiyama would. If Tachikawa wants him to forgive, who is Arashiyama to say otherwise?

“That’s not fair,” Arashiyama croaks weakly, feeling the prickling jealousy slowly slither away from his body.

“I just apologized,” Tachikawa mumbles to the red fabric of Arashiyama’s jacket. “How does that make me unfair?”

Now that he is no longer enshrouded with irrational resentment, he becomes more conscious on the curious gazes people send their way. Who wouldn’t though, when two important people of your organization are making a scene by bantering in the middle of gallery? The overly-intimate contact just adds spices to the already odd scene.

The realization of this, coupled with the fact that Tachikawa is still holding his hand, makes Arashiyama grateful that his Trion Body is not capable of blushing, because if it was, the shade of his face might rival the color of his uniform.

Timidly, Arashiyama whispers, “…people are staring.”

Tachikawa doesn’t lift his head like normal person would after being notified of onlooker’s presence. Instead, he tilts his head until his nose is grazing the skin of his neck that peeks from under his collar, and amusedly, he chuckles, “you just realized now?”

 _No, no, not that voice._ The raven swears, screwing his eyes shut in embarrassment and buries his own head in the crook of Tachikawa’s neck. A rational yet panicked part of him screams; _you’re just making it worse!_ and he faintly registers the gasp that breaks the uncomfortable silence of gallery. “You’re not fair,” he whispers again shakily.

“This wouldn’t happen if you’re not jealous in the first place,” Tachikawa sniggers.

That rational part of Arashiyama Jun nods along in agreement. _Right, this scene won’t be happening if he wasn’t- wait; what?_

Arashiyama jerks himself away from Tachikawa, letting the elder boy’s head drops from his shoulder. With wide, bulging green-eyes, he blurts out, “what?”

“What?” Tachikawa parrots him, blinking confusedly like he doesn’t answer what language Arashiyama is speaking in.

“I- wha-“

“What is going here?”

Startled, both of them turn around to the source of the voice. Standing with his two young team mates is Kazama Souya, standing more imposing than anyone else in the room despite being practically the smallest. The lines on his forehead tells them he’s not pleased, but his red eyes are shining with interest curiosity.

“Kazama-san,” Arashiyama stammers. “I’m sorry, I- we-“

He doesn’t finish his line because Tachikawa has placed his palm on top of Arashiyama’s head, ruffling it slightly before speaking up, “It’s okay, Kazama-san. It’s me, I accidentally upset Arashiyama.”

If stare is a distance you can walk, then Kazama has probably loop the moon from earth twice with how long the stare he’s giving Tachikawa. “Of course, it’s you again.”

“It’s not-“ Arashiyama sputters.

“Yes, yes, it’s me.” Tachikawa ruffles his hair further as if telling him he should shut up. If he’s not in his Trion body, his face would flare up in embarrassment. He’s letting Tachikawa take the blame for his childish tantrum.

“I don’t know whatever the reason was, but you better fix it. You’re an adult Tachikawa, you should know better than to squabble in public.” Kazama admonishes him, unimpressed. He then shifts his attention to the younger agent, and when he speaks, his voice is just as stern albeit less reproaching, “you too, Arashiyama. This is unlike you. If you’re tired, you should take a rest.”

How embarrassing. He even got Kazama worrying over him when he’s actually the one at fault. A huge lump lodges itself in Arashiyama’s throat, but he manages a weak, “…thank you, Kazama-san. I’m sorry,” because if he doesn’t, he’d just make Kazama worry even more when he deserves none of that.

“Now, Kazama-san, if you excuse us,” Tachikawa detaches his hand from Arashiyama’s hair then wraps it around his shoulder. “We need to sort some things out.”

“You better do it soon or Shinoda-san will hear about this,” Kazama warns them.

“Just leave it to me,” Tachikawa says with conviction. He leaves the gallery with a wave of his hand and Arashiyama in tow. The usually cheerful black-haired captain not raising his head at all even until the two of them disappear completely from view.

Kazama lets out a tired sigh after they’re gone. He really hopes Tachikawa can fix whatever dispute happened between them. He hasn’t been there since the commotion broke out, but when Ninomiya, looking troubled and somewhat guilty, approaches him, everything suddenly clicks together.

“Kaza-“

“Finally,” Kazama exhales in relief. “It’s about damn time…”

“Time…for what?” Ninomiya, who’s looking genuinely lost than ever inquires in confusion.

Kazama won’t tell him, but he appreciates this rare moment when Ninomiya, for once, doesn’t look like he knows all the secret in the world. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want to know.”

The shooter doesn’t look convinced, but he lets the issue drop, presumably because he doesn’t really want to bother himself with Tachikawa’s issue. “If you say so.”

Nodding approvingly, Kazama adds, “I’m sorry tough you have to be involved.”

“I think I deserve that from someone else,” he comments, looking miffed.

“True,” Kazama trails his gaze after the direction where Tachikawa and Arashiyama had gone to. “Just…be careful not to ruffle Arashiyama the wrong way.”

For Ninomiya’s honor, Kazama won’t point out that he is, indeed, gaping. He is not sure Kikuchihara would be as merciful, though. “What?”

“Troublesome, aren’t they? My juniors…”

:::

Arashiyama can deal with Tachikawa teasing him.

What he cannot deal with is Tachikawa teasing him about, “you’re jealous,” Tachikawa says with grin as big as his ego.

Arashiyama just want to blast that aggravating grin out of his face with his meteora.

“You cannot even say I’m not,” Tachikawa points out, gasping in mock surprise.

No, no, meteora won’t be enough. He’d ask anyone if Tamakoma if he was allowed to borrow Amatori-chan for a day, just to snipe Tachikawa’s face to pieces using her ibis.

… due to the actual horridness of the mental image, Arashiyama decides it’s not a wise decision.

Okay, maybe asks Miwa to shoot Tachikawa’s face with lead-bullet, he’s sure the black-haired boy would cooperate with his plan. Perfect!

“…I’ll let you know that your face right now is hella scary, and Netsuki-san would cry in his sleep if he ever saw his dear, precious Arashiyama-kun looking like this,” Tachikawa remarks, sounding a little bit scared.

“You’re saying?” Arashiyama decides to humor him now the table has slightly turned.

Tachikawa raises his hands above his head in defeat, “okay, okay, I will stop.”

“That’s better!” Arashiyama beams with victory in his hand.

There’s a saying that there’s no place to speak in private better than rooftop. Arashiyama secretly thinks it’s overrated, not to mention it’s cliché, but he cannot deny the factual statement. It’s still four pm in the afternoon, most agents are lounging in the gallery or in a duty.

Nobody use rooftop that much in the first place in regular basis, when it’s not used as targeting spot, the place is as good as deserted. The only person Arashiyama knows to frequent it is Miwa who always seems to need a private time to gather his endlessly jumbled thoughts

Tachikawa has suggested the place, and when Arashiyama raised his concern over the presence of a certain young captain, Tachikawa reassured him Miwa won’t be there because he was summoned by Kidou-san earlier, or so Tsukimi had told him.

Thankfully when they opened the door, there was no sign of black-haired boy. Arashiyama had quickly peeled himself off of Tachikawa’s hold, leaving the older boy behind him as he walked first so he can sit on the ledge. He’s in his Trion Body, so there’s no danger of falling. Tachikawa followed him soon after, sitting by his right with an amused, knowing smile, which was quickly replaced by an impossibly huge irritating grin that made Arashiyama plotted his death in the first place.

Now that it’s been taken care of, silence has settled between them like thick, cozy blanket that Arashiyama desperately clutches on to. He was ready to talk, but now he _is_ not ready. He’d be spilling the content of his heart all over the floor already if the recent quarrel didn’t happen. But it happened, and it robbed Arashiyama from the courage he had painstakingly gathered.

“Now that I have stopped,” Tachikawa begins. He lifts one leg and folds it so his shoes is under his knee. Grabbing his calf and ankle with both hands, Tachikawa leans forward but his head is turned sideways to face Arashiyama. “Can we start talking then?”

Arashiyama lets the wind caresses his cheeks, his hair fluttering around his face, tickling his cheeks now and then. Unlike Tachikawa, Arashiyama has both legs dangling off the ledge, not minding the prospect of falling over on bit. His gaze is casted over the faraway horizon, mapping the cityscape that changes with every shift of the cloud.

“They won’t talk in your place, you know,” Tachikawa points out after an unexpectedly long silence, much to Arashiyama’s annoyance.

“I know,” he briskly says, “I’m not that stupid, Tachikawa-san.”

Tachikawa tries to placate him, “look, okay, sorry I said unnecessary thing. I’m not going to tease you anymore, so could you tell me what’s been bothering you?”

 _You, you, you, and you_ , Arashiyama hears himself singing in the head, complete with the image of him _actually_ singing while reenacting choreography of a trending idol group. He shakes his head, swatting the disturbing image completely, before turning to stare directly at Tachikawa. “I-“

Again, words wither away in his throat. The way Tachikawa is looking at him intently like Arashiyama is the only thing that enables him to see in the first place renders him speechless. His heartbeat is thundering in his ears, sending a tingling zap down his spine.

How many times has Tachikawa been looking at him like this before? This is surely not the first time; Tachikawa has always been paying close attention to Arashiyama, unless so, he wouldn’t be able to easily pick apart the boy’s mood. It’s not that Arashiyama wasn’t aware, rather, he refused to read too much into such simple action.

Right, it’s supposed to be a simple, trivial action. Just looking into your speaking partner’s eyes when you’re in a conversation. It shouldn’t hold any more weight than what it is, right?

Arashiyama feels strangely disappointed if that was the case.

“Well,” Tachikawa prompts again, leaning closer to Arashiyama’s space. “What’s the deal?”

“I might have fallen in love with you.”

All he receives for his confession is a slow blink of dark eyes and a, “come again?”

Right, so anti-climactic. He finally professed his forbidden undying love to the man who could pretty much be his knight in shining armor even though that man is constantly in danger of failing his credit every single day since he cannot even remember the day he should be submitting his report in. Why does he love him in the first place?

Arashiyama knew, as immediate as the first glance, that Tachikawa Kei is as dependable as undependable he looks like.

Right, and now he’s starting to doubt his younger-self’s judgement. And eyes, did he even get his eyes checked before he met Tachikawa for the first time? _You did, Border requires medical check-up before enlisting,_ a part of him supplies. Arashiyama makes a mental note to check the doctor’s credibility, because clearly, he’s not doing his job right.

“Okay, _okay_ , I just want to make sure if I heard it right, because, you know,”  Tachikawa makes a gesture of pointing at himself then Arashiyama, batting his eyes rapidly, “I don’t think this is something that I should take lightly.”

Arashiyama’s heart is still racing a marathon, nevertheless, breathing has become a little bit easier. At least he knows Tachikawa is taking this seriously. If Tachikawa showed even a semblance of ridicule toward his confession, Arashiyama is not sure how long it would take his confidence to recover.

“So, let me get this straight, you just said you have-“ Tachikawa fumbles with his words and it sends rocket ricocheting in Arashiyama’s stomach. “ _fallen in love with me_ …”

“Yes,” the green-eyed boy affirms, nodding eagerly in spite of his nervousness. He stutters, locking his gaze with Tachikawa’s darker ones, “I did; not that I _did_ I love you- wait, I _did,_ but I still do now. I did, did just said that I have fallen in love with you. I am-“

“Whoa, there, slow down,” Tachikawa tries to place his hand on Arashiyama’s shoulder to calm him down, but the moment his fingers do as much as grazing the red jersey-material, he abruptly pauses mid-air. In his eyes, uncertainty and awe dance together, “so I didn’t misheard you.”

Not sure how he should take Tachikawa’s reaction, Arashiyama nods shyly, making an enormous effort to maintain their gazes together. “You heard me right the first time, Tachikawa-san…”

Eventually, Tachikawa releases his hand from the invisible strings that keep them suspended, securing his grip on Arashiyama’s shoulder. “Since when?”

 _When? Since when?_ Arashiyama is not even sure when his feeling started to slip away from his control. The revelation is recent, but as of when exactly he started wanting to be something _more_ to Tachikawa, he cannot pin-point. “I’m not sure,” he admits dejectedly, “I was conscious of it just recently actually, remember when I kind of blanked out in cafeteria? That’s when-“

“You were jealous too at the time,” Tachikawa gasps, this time in pure astonishment.

Arashiyama just wants to shrink into tinny, micro-sized bug and scurries away. “I was. I did, and today with Ninomiya-san too-“

“Fuck, you were _really_ jealous.”

“Okay, fine, _I am_ ,” Arashiyama snaps. “I’m jealous of Ninomiya-san, I know it’s incredibly childish of me to do so, but I can’t help it, you know? I spent the past weeks twisting and turning, unable to sleep after realizing I am in love with you. It took some times, but I can finally found peace in accepting my feeling. But of course it’s not that simple as just admitting it, isn’t it? There’s this thing of what do I want to be with you, despite our _circumstance_ -“

 _That prevents us to be together, because I am the face of Border, my reputation equals Border’s reputation. And I’m not sure if society is already that accepting toward a homosexual public figure. They’d probably start accusing us of trying to degrade and corrupt children’s moral after giving them literal guns and swords to fight with_ – goes unsaid, but he can tell Tachikawa understands it too.

“I could just let this feeling go, let my rationale beats the thought out of my head – beats the feeling out of my heart, but I didn’t, because I know before I can even move on, you,” Arashiyama pauses, curling a corner of his lips upward to form a resigned smile. “You’d be able to tell there’s something _wrong_ with me…”

“I did,” Tachikawa affirms. The confusion has been cleared from his eyes, now, there’s only pure curiosity flickering behind his eyes. “You were – _are_ – different, I can tell.

“Of course you’d be able to,” Arashiyama’s smile takes a timid edge, “after all, you’re the only person I’ve let to see that much of me.”

“Not even Jin?”

Arashiyama shakes his head, “not, not even Jin. Even if I let him, it’s not as much as what you’ve seen, Tachikawa-san. For example, he never saw me cry.”

“That’s-“ the elder boy surprises Arashiyama by frowning, “does that mean you love me just because you can cry in front of me?”

“NO!” Arashiyama instinctively yells. He surges forward, latching his right hand on top of Tachikawa’s on his shoulder. “It’s not like that! Definitely not that! I don’t love you because you’re convenient, Tachikawa-san. Please don’t belittle my feelings like that.”

Tachikawa’s expression lights up like sky after the rain, eyes shining with relief. “Good, then. Sorry though, I didn’t mean it like that."

His reaction sparks a flame of hope in the pit of Arashiyama’s stomach. Despite his outburst here and there, it’s going relatively well so far, Tachikawa has not shown any sign of rejection since his confession. Encouraged by this, Arashiyama gathers himself and speaks again, “so I decided I should just come clean to you, about my feelings…and about what I want to be with you…”

“What,” Tachikawa pulls his hand from under Arashiyama’s. The young captain secretly laments over the loss of contact, but the disappointment dwindles away as soon as it came when Tachikawa takes his hand in his and brings it to rest between them on the hard concrete. “Do you want to _be_ with me?”

 _This is it_ , Arashiyama thinks, finally shying away from Tachikawa’s eyes since they first started this conversation. He stares at their joined hands, at how Tachikawa’s palm is slightly larger than his own. Then he recalls how many times he’s been saved by those hands, in and outside the battlefield. How many times has he been pampered by those rough yet tender fingers? How many times has he sought for them in time of anxiety? How many times has he looked after its guidance when he’s lost and adrift?

How many times has he longed for it just because he simply misses Tachikawa’s company?

“What I want to _be_ ,” Arashiyama ascends his gaze; traveling it from Tachikawa’s palm, up to his arms, his strong, dependable shoulder, his neck hidden behind his tall collars, his sharp-square jawlines, his cheeks, and finally dock it at Tachikawa’s eyes – unfathomable depth of silvery onyx.

 _God, do I love this person,_ he thinks, and his next action is not something he has planned to do at all.

Well, he might have _known_ beforehand that he _would_ do _this_. Thanks to a certain blue-eyed power elite who likes to stick his nose where he doesn’t belong.

_“Whatever I’m about to say,” Jin finally ends his long silence. Arashiyama unconsciously leans forward; ears open to catch every single word that’s about to spill out from Jin’s mouth. “…promise me…”_

Arashiyama faintly remembers the conversation he had with Jin a couple of days prior, and if he isn’t too busy thinking about how Tachikawa’s eyes has grown comically wide as their face get closer, he’d remember too about the troubled expression on Jin’s face as he spoke,

_“-you won’t be mad at me, because it’s not like I saw it because I want it. I mean- it’s supposed to be very private, and I’m aware it’s something that you don’t want any other people to see, but the thing is, I- my side-effect made me see it-“_

_“Quit it, Jin,” Arashiyama grunted impatiently, “just out with it. What did you side-effect told you?”_

_Jin sighed in defeat. He raises one hand in front of him as if in defense while using the other to cover half of his face, slightly turning away from Arashiyama. “My side-effect told me-“_

Arashiyama kisses Tachikawa.

For a moment, he swears the whole world stops at that singular point of time. He cannot even feel the breeze that flutter his hair, the noise of twittering birds fade away as the world fall into a complete and utter silence. Time stops, and all Arashiyama can focus on is the dizzying buzz in his head;

_I kiss Tachikawa-san, I kiss Tachikawa-san, I kiss Tachikawa-san, I kiss Tachikawa-san, I kiss Tachikawa-san, I kiss Tachikawa-san, I kiss-_

And when Tachikawa withdraws first, the gears of time start to turn again, quiet possibly grinding Arashiyama’s heart in between.

Suddenly, Arashiyama finds the idea of jumping off the building to be very interesting. At least this way, he can literally disappear from Tachikawa’s sight without actually dying. Or Bailing out, that’s even better idea, it’s quicker and painless, not to mention doesn’t require any effort at all.

It’s decided then, he’d bail out. Arashiyama opens his mouth, but before he can utter even the first syllable, Tachikawa beats him to it.

“Trigger off.”

In glimmer of brilliant green, Tachikawa’s long coat dissolves into a maroon-shirt and dark jeans. Even then, the expression on his face remains the same; dazed yet somewhat earnest.

“You too,” Arashiyama is faintly aware at how Tachikawa’s hand on his shoulder has crept to the back of his neck, flesh digging into the frigid skin of Arashiyama’s artificial body. “Trigger off.”

At the commanding tone in Tachikawa’s voice, Arashiyama can only comply. Dazedly, he murmurs, “trigger off.”

Arashiyama hasn’t even completely returned to his actual body when Tachikawa says, “you,” angles his head, and crashes their lips together again.

This time, Arashiyama can actually _feel_ the warmth of Tachikawa’s lips. He sighs contently, and let Tachikawa brings their body closer by circling his other hand – the one that had been holding Arashiyama’s own between them – around the raven’s waist. After some shifting around, led by Tachikawa, Arashiyama finds him sitting in between Tachikawa’s opened legs as the elder boy continues to press soft, gentle kisses on his lips.

Tachikawa gives him one long yet chaste heart-searing kiss before letting go, speaking softly right to Arashiyama’s tender lips and successfully turns his inside into soft, mushy jelly. “Are supposed to kiss someone when you’re in your actual body, not the trion one.”

“I’m sorry,” Arashiyama can only manage a shaky apology. He still cannot bring himself to look Tachikawa straight in the eyes, too nervous and bewildered at the sudden turn of event, so he keeps his eyes closed. Yet he can feel the other is boring their gaze on him.

“…What do you want?” Tachikawa asks, rubbing his thumb at the patch of skin under Arashiyama’s hair. The young boy whimpers. “Tell me, Arashiyama. Because there’s only one thing I can assume from your action, and like I said, I don’t think this is something that I can freely interpret by myself. So, help me, tell me; what do you want?”

That question again, a question with so many answers and none at the same time. What does he want? What is it that he truly wants, he should know already, he has made up his mind, which is why he’s now here admitting his feeling to Tachikawa. This is why he had acted impulsively on his feelings and kissed him.

It’s a simple question which he already has the answer already. He just refuses to see it because all in his life, Arashiyama never really thinks of what _he_ wants. He always thinks of what _the others_ want.

His family wants him to be safe and happy, to follow his heart calling as long as he can return to them.

Border wants him to be their representative, wants him to be a ‘hero’ to inspire people and makes the citizen put their faith in them.

Media wants him to be the perfect young man, a dependable knight in shining armor of modern age whom they can write about to bring meal to their tables.

His friends want him to be ‘The Arashiyama of Border’. His team mates want him to be their captain. Always leading and encouraging. A pillar of support. Example for young, developing agents.

They all want different things but all the same from him; to be the beacon of hope. Someone they can cling onto in the time of despair. And for that reason alone, Arashiyama can never think of what _he_ wanted. He is not _allowed_ to even flirt with the idea.

It has broken him, once. But then he managed to patch himself together again, not alone, but with help of Tachikawa. If it wasn’t for Tachikawa, Arashiyama would have been defeated by his own anxiety a long time ago. If it wasn’t for Tachikawa, Arashiyama wouldn’t be able to be this ‘Arashiyama’ that everyone wants him to be.

So it should be okay if he _wants_ Tachikawa for himself, right?

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Arashiyama finally opens his eyes. The emerald orbs are trembling as they make their journey to meet Tachikawa’s own pair of dark-grey eyes. As always, they see through him, making Arashiyama feels as vulnerable as deer in the headlight. But they never scare him for he trusts Tachikawa with all of himself. Tachikawa can never judge him; he can only accept and welcome him.

He can only, Arashiyama dares hoping, _love_ him, in the most unconditional way one can love someone.

And that is the main reason why he is inexplicably in love with the attacker. It began with a trust in Tachikawa’s strength, then he had a taste of Tachikawa’s kindness, now, he cannot get away. He cannot imagine having to live without either by his side, he needs them both; the unshakeable power and welcoming kindness that promise him of safety.

Tachikawa’s strength lies beyond his swords, it actually resides within his big, encompassing heart. In his arms that would give Arashiyama encouraging touch. In his childlike smile that can easily wipes away fear from Arashiyama’s heart. It lies in his words, blunt as they can be, always honest, never intending to hurt anybody in purpose.

Tachikawa’s strength lies in his ability to accept people they way they are; with their black and white. And in the exact same fashion, he has accepted Arashiyama; has even promised he’d protect him. It becomes harder now, for Arashiyama who has realized his own feeling, to fall out of love from Tachikawa. He doesn’t think he can trust someone as much. He doesn’t think he _wants_ to trust someone as much.

“What I want,” Arashiyama says for the second time that day. “Is to be with you, Tachikawa-san. More than I already do, closer than we already are. More,” he swallows, “more than anybody else can ever be with you. I want to be- I want you all for myself, I don’t want you to share you with anyone-“

“Greedy aren’t we?” Tachikawa nips his lips playfully, grinning. Arashiyama’s heart stutters.

“You asked me what I want, that’s what I want,” he pouts.

Tachikawa kisses it away from his face, “mm-hmm, but?”

 _Of course he’d know_ , Arashiyama marvels. “But, as much as I want to be your,” he flusters, “ _boyfriend_ , I don’t think now is the right time. We practically have the world in our plate, I- even if I want to pursue a serious relationship with you, it’s not now. It can’t be now…not until the condition is stable enough for me to-“

“Not until the condition _allows_ you to date.”

Arashiyama smiles solemnly, “yeah, there’s that, too.”

“Huh,” the elder says, he lets go of Arashiyama’s head and maneuver it so he has the younger boy using his shoulder as a pillow. “How troublesome.”

Despite all the warmth that’s surrounding him, Arashiyama feels cold starting to seep in. “I’m sorry,” he whispers stiffly.

Arashiyama still can hardly believe how his confession, despite the initial turbulence, has been sailing smoothly so far. Tachikawa had kissed him back, even initiates another ones in their actual body. It’s a bloody good sign, isn’t it? That means he reciprocates Arashiyama’s feeling, isn’t it?

But this is it, Tachikawa is going to reject him. Arashiyama can understand why. After all the length he had gone, even suffering from Arashiyama’s tantrum, Arashiyama suddenly declares that he can’t – _won’t_ – be pursuing a relationship with him. Not now, but that’s what the matter worse.

“What you want it basically making me wait for you,” Tachikawa concludes. Even if it’s true, and is said with no malice at all, it stings. Even more so when he adds, “that’s incredibly selfish of you.”

Feeling his throat go wet like his eyes, Arashiyama can only muster another, “I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven,” is all Tachikawa says. For a while, both of them are quiet until Tachikawa speaks again, “before I share my thought, can I ask you something?”

“Yes?”

“Why were you jealous at Ninomiya but not at Jin? Or Kazama-san?”

 _That_ \- that’s not the question he’s expecting. He has expected Tachikawa to ask him something along the line of; ‘why do you fall for me?’ or ‘why can’t you just say fuck off to those damned _circumstance?’,_ with the latter being something that he knows Tachikawa won’t ask because that’s how well Tachikawa knows him.

“I mean,” taking Arashiyama’s silence as a chance to continue, the attacker goes, “I practically spend more time with them, and you know how I react when it comes to Jin, but I never once saw – _felt_ – that you’re bothered by it. I would know.”

“You would, indeed,” Arashiyama acknowledges, voice muffled by Tachikawa’s collar.

By the way, has he mentioned at all how _dashing_ Tachikawa is in button-up maroon shirt? His attires are mainly hands down from Shinoda-san since Tachikawa cannot be any more bothered with clothes. It’s a very simple, fuss-free style, but it goes really well with Tachikawa’s manly figure. Arashiyama never want to praise someone’s uncreative, basic sense of fashion until now.

“According to Jin,” he quickly says, pulling his mind out from the gutter. “I’m not jealous, _but_ I apparently behaved in the way that alluded I’d be much happier if you aren’t going on and on about _Jin, Jin, Jin_ , for at least two hours straight.”

“Wow, did I sound that,” Tachikawa searches around for word, “cringey?”

“No, you sound a manlier, actually. Just a little bit, though,” he jokingly says.

Tachikawa playfully slaps him on the back, when he speaks again, Arashiyama can almost hear the grin in his voice, “no, seriously. That doesn’t explain it all. I swear if I ever obsess over someone, then it’d be Jin not Ninomiya. But why are you jealous of the latter yet not the former?”

Arashiyama ponders for a while, and then he quietly tries to explain himself, “I guess because Jin is not conscious about you the way Ninomiya-san does…I guess…I don’t know, I’m not making sense.” Embarrassed, Arashiyama buries his head deeper to the crook of Tachikawa’s neck. “Does it matter?”

“It does,” the elder says with a nod, “now I know how to not make you jealous.”

Arashiyama’s heart does a dramatic cart-wheel in his chest. “Why,” he mumbles, “do you care so much?”

“Or course I do, I did promise you I’d protect you, right? And that includes from jealousy, too. Beside, you’re rather scary when you’re jealous, and I obviously would rather not deal with that.”

“Tachikawa-sa-“

“The bottom line is,” Tachikawa suddenly presses a kiss, long and gentle on Arashiyama’s forehead, his stubble grazing Arashiyama’s nose, and the raven would react if he wasn’t so surprised by the affectionate gesture. “That’s incredibly selfish of you, but I know where you are coming from. So, don’t worry, I will wait. I will wait until you are free enough to pursue a relationship. I’m not going anywhere.”

He laces their fingers together then brings it to Arashiyama’s chest, resting it right on top of where his heart is.

“I will be here, always, like I always do. Don’t mind about unnecessary thing like me rejecting or leaving you, as long as you stay the way you are, as long as you let me stay here right beside you, I don’t care how long it’d take, I will wait.”

“Why?” Arashiyama tightens their entwined fingers.

“Do you really need to ask why?”

He doesn’t, probably. Still, hearing Tachikawa’s speech overwhelms him with so many emotion at the once, the most prevailing one, unfortunately, being his anxiety. He needs to know _why_ , because unless he does, his heart will never be truly calm. Because even after all this time, he still needs reassurance, more from Tachikawa than from anyone else. “Please?”

“For someone who’s supposed to be the smart one between the two of us, you’re surprisingly slow,” Tachikawa chuckles. He then let go of Arashiyama’s hand, much to the younger’s disappointment. In exchange, he cradles Arashiyama’s face gently; gentle like when he had first done it in that scene of ruin, gentle like when he had tried to calm Arashiyama down from his anxiety.

Gentle, like he has always been whenever it comes to Arashiyama.

“Of course it’s because I love you, too. I always do, right from the very start.”

And just as gentle is his kiss, the one that got Arashiyama’s heart shooting into the sky, becoming one with the stars, and he worries won’t ever come back after knowing the beauty of Milky Way.

For a while, all Arashiyama can do is sit there, eyes opened wide like he’d die if he close them. Tachikawa’s keeps on kissing his unresponsive lips, drawing him impossibly closer. His stupor eventually crack when he feels a wetness on his lips, and like being electrocuted, Arashiyama jerks himself away though he cannot go that far since Tachikawa still got a firm grip on his face.

“Wha-“

The elder looks at him funnily, tongue sticking out from the corner of his lips. “What?”

“What- I-“ he feels like he is doing a lot of stuttering today. Where does his extensive vocabulary, honed by hundred hours of public speaking left him? Treacherous, treacherous brain. “Since the begi- when? How?”

Tachikawa smiles wider, brighter than gazillion of sun and Arashiyama sure he is going to be blind with close they are. His thumb slid down from his cheek to Arashiyama’s lips – lips that he just kissed, and _licked_ – his eyes follow, and they stop there.

The raven squirms nervously, cheeks deepening into shade of ripe apple. Unconsciously, Arashiyama bites the said lips. Tachikawa laughs like sparks of water in the sunlight; clear and brilliant.

“Call me shallow, but it’s not exactly difficult to fall for pretty face,” he tilts his head coyly. He presses thumb and pulls until Arashiyama is not worrying them under his teeth anymore, earning him a whimper from the other. “And pretty heart on top of that.”

“That’s,” slow yet sure, Arashiyama sends his hands on a journey, climbing up his chest and eventually find purchase on his firm, broad shoulder. “Astonishingly cheesy coming from you.”

“I’m always this romantic at heart,” Tachikawa turns to his left, lifting his shoulder so he can press a quick kiss on top of Arashiyama’s knuckle.

Arashiyama just gapes at him, he doesn’t know if his face can get any redder than this.

“Is this alright?” at the thunderstruck expression he’s receiving, Tachikawa smirks again. “Ahh, seriously, you’re too cute for your own good, you know? I can’t believe I can get someone as adorable as you as my boyfriend. _Future_ boyfriend.

The mention of ‘future boyfriend’ breaks Arashiyama from his daze. He searches into Tachikawa’s pool of polished-metal, catching swirl of silver and understanding in it. Timidly, he asks, “is it okay?”

“I said I will wait, didn’t I?” Tachikawa brings his face close for a peck on a cheek. “As long as you want me to, then I will wait. No matter how long it takes until you are ready, I will always be here.”

“Nothing is going to change, right?”  He dares voicing out his fear. What if Tachikawa suddenly finds it too much and fall for someone else? Arashiyama can already imagine how devastated he’d be if it happened.

As if sensing the younger’s brewing anxiety, Tachikawa presses a chaste and innocent, yet reassuring and firm kiss on his lips. “Do you trust me?”

Arashiyama nods mutely. He remembers this; this question. _Do you trust me?_ He does, doesn’t he? He has always been. It’s the thing that has been pushing him forward, the faith that has been encouraging him to get back on his feet and walk forward when the weight of his surrounding has knocked him down.

Tachikawa knows the answer to this question as well as he knows Arashiyama. There is no verbal confirmation needed. He doesn’t wait, then, continues, speaking gently in that amber-warm, profound voice of his. “Then trust me, this feeling of mine – _these feelings of ours_ – will not change. Not ever.”

A tear slip from his eyes, before it can go as far as his cheek, Tachikawa wipes them away. Arashiyama closes his eyes, submitting himself to Tachikawa’s affection. Words are futile; they can never truly express the joy one’s heart feels. No matter how many words he string together, they won’t be enough to describe this transcendental bliss and happiness.

 On each of his closed lids, Tachikawa drops a kiss. A kiss like prayer. A kiss like an oath. A pledge, which holds more weight than any golden band of ring in Arashiyama’s heart. That he will stay, that he will still be here. That he will continue to support him, continue to protect him from any harm that might befall him, body and soul.

The whole world becomes of no matter to him then, shrinking into atomic-sized particle that he sweeps away to the back of his mind. Everything pales in comparison with Tachikawa, whose already huge presence in Arashiyama’s heart has just grown even bigger, expanding, claiming his territory over every single space he has not occupied. He feels full, yet empty at the same time, like he’s been liberated, sent off to fly and soar to his heart’s content.

“I love you,” he says in between his spilling tears, in between the rain of kisses that washes away his nineteen years of doubt. “Kei-san…”

“Mm-hmm, I love you too, Jun.”

And in these arms that envelop him like fortress, with heart-searing care, and delicate heat,  Arashiyama feels like he finally truly belongs. After all, he has long since given himself to this dependable, beautiful man.

:::

Tachikawa associates Arashiyama Jun with sun. For the positivism that shines bright in his personality, for his cheerful voice that reminds Tachikawa of birds’ twitter in the morning, for the warmth honesty that radiates hotly from his stark-bright emerald eyes; for everything that Arashiyama Jun is, he reminds Tachikawa of sun.

Scratch that; Arashiyama _is_ the sun, he is the sun for a galaxy called Mikado City. Mikado needs Arashiyama to continue existing, like the way planets need the pull of sun’s gravity to continue orbiting without colliding with one another.

And he is the sun to Tachikawa too. Has become one. Or he has always been, Tachikawa doesn’t know. His brain doesn’t function as well when he’s not in battlefield. In spite of that he knows that Arashiyama is his sun; _his_ one and only sun.

If Arashiyama is the sun, Tachikawa doesn’t want to be the planet. He wants to be the solar system itself. The galaxy. Made up of billions of celestial objects with Arashiyama in the center, the brightest stellar inside of him.

Tachikawa will not let him die, because Arashiyama is the sun and he is burning himself to light up people’s way. Tachikawa will make sure he stays aflame. Radiating his indispensable brilliance. Alive and beautiful.

As long as Tachikawa exist, Arashiyama will keep on existing. As long as Tachikawa maintains the grand orchestra that he encompasses, Arashiyama will continue to shine, twinkling in the darkness of people’s heart and guide them home.

He will protect him, will not let any merciless word tear his soul and blade scrapes an open wound on his unblemished skin. If he failed in his duty, and Arashiyama ends up with a crack in his heart and bruises on his feet, then Tachikawa will welcome him, will patch him up, and let him rest curled in his embrace until Arashiyama is ready to take on the world again.

Arashiyama doesn’t have to know this. Arashiyama only has to know how to shine.

Arashiyama doesn’t have to know how Tachikawa might have had lied a few times that he hadn’t finish his homework just so Arashiyama would come and nag at him. Arashiyama doesn’t have to know how Tachikawa’s heart had run miles per minutes whenever he did as much as smiling at him. Arashiyama doesn’t have to know how good Tachikawa felt when Arashiyama turned to him instead of his team mate or Jin, when he’s troubled.

Arashiyama doesn’t need to know none of this. He just has to know how to shine, how to smile, how to illuminate people’s way and inspire them to walk.

Tachikawa doesn’t need to know when it started either. What matters the most is that now they’re together, and as long as Arashiyama wants him to wait, he’d do.

As long as Arashiyama seeks for him, he’d come.


End file.
